


Pride and Virtue

by Morpheel



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: 2005 Christmas Special (Eddsworld), Casual Sex, Christmas, Creampie, Ede! Eddsworld, Embarrassment, Face-Fucking, Homelessness, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Piercings, Porn Video, Pornstars, Praise Kink, Prostitution, Recorded Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex for Shelter, Shower Sex, Tattoos, Tom offers Matt a job as a pornstar okay, Wintertime, dubcon, pornstar AU, there's just a lot going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheel/pseuds/Morpheel
Summary: (Ede!, Edd-Doesn't-Exist, au.)After a series of unfortunate events in his life, Matt finds himself homeless on the streets of London with no family or friends to turn back to. He's trying to make ends meet to the best of his ability even with dwindling cash lining his pocket. Prostitution seems to be the only surefire way to ensure a steady income- yet it seems his luck is changing.A man by the name of Tord offers him a place to stay for the night, and with it comes a job opportunity that he had never anticipated. With his friend Tom running a multi-million dollar porn industry, Matt may just have his work cut out for him.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This fic is based off of the 2005 Eddsworld Christmas special, where Edd goes with a guardian angel and sees just how the world would have been had he not been born.
> 
> Now at first I wanted to mainly write this about Tom and Tord and their pornstar lives, but...Matt really caught my attention in that alternate universe.  
> The question came up, "What if Tord found homeless Matt and told Tom about him as a potential star?" 
> 
> So yeah, this is what it's gonna be. I'm still working on all of my other fics, don't worry, but I just want a nice variety to work off of here depending on my writing moods!

Ever since Matt moved out, it seems as if he’s been a tad bit down in luck.

His parents were so eager to throw him out into the world that it seemed he had little preparation to actually be on his own. He knew the abstract of being an adult. You get an apartment, you get a job, and you get bills in the mail sometimes? It was all such a terrifying concept.

But he attempted the first step. He got a house, for a monthly payment with a relatively low downpayment. It was small, it smelled kind of gross, but it was his own. After that he made sure to apply to as many jobs as possible, carefully counting the dwindling change in his pockets in order to buy food and make ends meet.

He got a simple job as a frycook.

It wasn’t really a glamorous job, sure, but it got him a rather healthy paycheck each day. He was able to pay rent, get groceries, get some more furniture like mirrors and additional outfits to his ensemble. He was feeling pretty confident about this whole adult thing!

He was living pretty comfortably, with the phone and car that was passed down to him from his parents. While they were certainly eager to thrust him into the world, at least they left him semi prepared. He could drive to work, make calls, and not have to worry about the bills and insurance.

Until one day his phone service went out. He couldn’t send or receive messages, and that also meant that he was no longer connected to his parents. Shit. He figured eventually they would realize he was still on their plan. It was inconvenient to his paycheck and food, sure, but he was able to get his own plan.

Limited texts, a certain time period on calls, and no gigabytes; but a phone was a phone. He was able to send a message to his parents number to let him know, and really tried not to be concerned when he didn’t get a reply from his father’s or mother’s cellphone.

Ah well, no matter. He was able to make rent, get some cheaper food, and even afford a bit of wifi for his own enjoyment. It was simple to lay back in his little recliner and browse the net, looking for even better job opportunities. Things really were looking up!

Until his car broke down.

Not only did it heavily interfere with his job, but the cost of repair was easily traveling into the thousands as his old civic was rather beaten and worn down inside. And needed an oil change. And a new set of brakes.

He was taking the bill with a tremble in his fingers, setting up a payment plan that he hoped he would be able to keep. No more T.V. service, he guessed. At least he was still able to afford food that month, and barely rent. He really didn’t want to start getting behind.

He felt like he had some semblance of balance back in his life when he basically took as many shifts as he could at the little chain restaurant from his return. He may have worked nearly twelve hours each day, but it would hopefully be enough to get a little savings going.

But the savings didn’t last long.

His license sticker expired, his insurance was changed to where he was no longer on his parents plan- and he only figured this out after getting into a crash where he wasn’t even the driver at fault. The douche to his left had ran the stop sign when it was Matt’s turn, completely damaging his car once more.

On top of that, he now had another dent to fix in his car and a ticket for not having insurance. Add more to the list of things that he now had to pay for, and Matt was absolutely miserable. He was curled up in his house, staring down at the ticket he just couldn’t pay for at this point.

He was dialing his mom’s number, before nearly reeling in shock when the automated tone ringing in his ear stated that the number that he was trying to reach didn’t exist anymore. It was all so much to take in, that he was dialing his dad’s only to receive the exact same response.

Matt was completely alone.

He curled up in his recliner as the tears kept rolling down his cheeks, the weight of attempting to balance his life feeling as if it were finally about to fall.

 It was only when he learned the rates for his insurance and new bills that he knew he would not be able to afford the costs of so much as living now. Health insurance was damning, auto insurance was horrendous, his rent was still an ever present threat, and now he had to worry about a five hundred dollar ticket and payments for both of the repairs to his car.

It was with a heavy heart that he knew the car wasn’t worth it.

He sold it the next day, closing his insurance for the car, and settling for a pathetic little bike. The ride to work was miserable every day, but at the very least he was able to start paying off some of his debts. Things were starting to look up, almost.

But a few too many times being stuck at lights or having to stop from being winded on his bike and he was graciously laid off of his job.

With no source of income, no call backs from his parents, and absolutely no responses about his applications Matt was in a….bad place.

He didn’t know what he was going to do. All of his friends had left the country for America a while back, or going off to colleges so far from him. He was fresh out of highschool with little more than graduation money to keep him sustained. Which, quite clearly, it did not.

He had to hand over the keys to his apartment, after selling nearly every item of furniture inside. What had happened to his parents? His family? His contacts and his friends? He was left with nobody in this cruel fucking world, and it was with a heavy heart that he strapped his few belongings to his back and headed out.

At first it was simple. Stop into a shop, linger around a bit, watch the news and read the paper. He would stay until closing, avoid the worker’s judgmental stares. Then he’d pack up his stuff and move to a local park to sit and watch the stars. He had roughly enough money to last him through perhaps two months at most, before he would really be in trouble.

Curling up on the bench for the first time of many, Matt had fitful nightmares as he kept his belongings under his head in a pillow.

When he woke up, he realized drearily that it had begun to rain overnight. He was covered in a sheen dewing of water, shivering from the cold as the brisk early morning had him rubbing his palms together futilely. He was just in his purple hoodie and green overcoat, trying to keep as warm as he could as he got up to seek shelter under a tree.

Even with the rain not stopping all day, he figured he had nothing better to do than shift his dead-weight phone back and forth between his palms. It gave him something to do as the hours seemed to blend endlessly together. He didn’t know what he was going to do.

Did he look for work? Did he try and ask for handouts? Did he go to a local government shelter? He didn’t even know if the city had those.

This pattern continued as such for a good couple of weeks. Around the two week mark he was really hitting a grimy point. His clothes reeked, his face was dirty, his hair was matted and unkempt. Even with the brush in his bag it felt ratty and disgusting every time it dried without product. And it was getting longer than his usual style.

He sighed a bit as he stared into a puddle on the side of the road, hating the man that stared back at him. His usual flushed cheeks were a deep pale from an oncoming cold, his body tired and sluggish and near constantly hungry as he tried to ration his portions out.

Sometimes people would recognize him, let him crash in their house for a bit, but he refused to stay. At first it was a waitress at his old workplace that noticed him homeless on the streets. Then it was his manager, and another few employees that let him crash there.

Unfortunately he couldn’t get back his job, but he thanked them graciously for allowing him use of their showers and homes.

Yet the first solicitation took him by surprise.

He had never really enjoyed the presence of this other cook, Dylan, but he ran into him one day none-the-less. He took one look at Matt before shaking his head and stopping him with his arm. “Dude, you don’t look so hot.” He began, the ginger shriveling up from the man’s presence. He didn’t like the way his eyes were roaming judgmentally along his form.

“I’m just in a bit of a rough spot.” Matt tried to argue, before nearly jumping in alarm when a hundred was thrust in his direction. His eyes went wide at the sight of the bill.

He didn’t want to believe it. The guy was adamant about not liking Matt when they were working together. It was just a bit suspicious that suddenly he would be feeling so generous. Before he accepted the bill between his fingers, Matt was narrowing his deep blue eyes at the man. “Oh haha, what, are you just going to pull it back when I reach for it like a fool?”

He didn’t like the way that Dylan was smiling at him.

“Oh no, trust me, I wasn’t planning on just giving it to you. I’ll give you a place to stay, a shower to freshen up in, and some less shitty clothes. On one condition.” He paused, letting Matt judge the terms with a slightly unsteady quiver to his lip. He really, really did not like where this was going.

“You come to my place and give me something in return. And I think you’d know what I’d want.” He elaborated, reveling in the way that Matt’s freckled cheeks blushed in sheer embarrassment. He was being bribed into prostitution right now. At first it felt like an absolutely horrendous deal to take. He didn’t want to have sex with a man, let alone one that was such a total douchebag.

But that one hundred dollar bill could secure him easily for another week, and lord knows if he would be able to earn more. He eyed the bill for a moment longer, before turning his head away and crossing his arms proudly over his chest. “If I do more and stay longer, can I make more money too?” He asked, only a glimmer of hope in his eyes that perhaps Dylan would be reasonable.

The man seemed to mull it over for a moment, before pocketing the hundred again and grinning. “I guess I could use my house cleaned. Alright, here’s the deal. One hundred initially, ten for every room of my house cleaned, and twenty for any time you do something to sexually please me. I can’t keep you around forever though, so the cutoff date will be a week from now. I’ve got family coming over.” He said, holding out his hand to Matt.

He didn’t particularly want to take it, given his own was no doubt in rather poor condition. But the chance to make any money that he possibly could? He couldn’t let this slip between his fingers. He was being given an amazing deal, and even if it hurt his pride, Matt didn’t have much more to bargain with.

If his body would get him food and a place to stay, then he supposed it was an even tradeoff for the way that his poor ass hurt near agonizingly even on the first day.

Dylan wasn’t exactly a gentle lover, and he seemed intent to get the most out of his money as Matt was sprawled across the bed with his arms tied behind his back. Who would have thought the lonely punk cashier boy would be into heavy BDSM and dom/sub dynamics?

He was drooling against the pillow as the other kept a vibrating cock ring around him, stimulating him to cloud nine but refraining him from a proper orgasm. He’s had to have cum dry at least three times since the beginning of round one, and the buildup was finally beginning to wear him down.

“D-Dylan, please-“ he was cut off with a harsh tug to his hair, eyes rolling back as his prostate was nailed dead on with his next thrust.  “That’s not my name.” He said, voice so stern that Matt wanted to cry. So he did, letting the overstimulation brim over his eyes and result in an absolutely blubbering mess of himself.

“Please please please sir, It’s too much. I can’t keep g-going.” He said, miserably realizing that the words were only turning his partner on more. He was being dead serious but he couldn’t remember that safeword that would get him out of this. Another thrust in and he couldn’t even remember up from down, a hoarse cry leaving him as he all but collapsed against the sheets.

Finally he was feeling a rush of warmth inside of him, making him feel all levels of gross as he could feel the wetness sliding down his thighs. He was breathing heavily as he felt a baby wipe moving up his thigh, shivering as it gathered the cum and folded it into the trash with a casual toss of Dylan’s wrist.

Dylan fell back onto the bed with a small sigh, an arm winding lazily about Matt’s shoulders as he gingerly plucked at the knots keeping him still along his arms. “So? Was that so bad?” he asked, noting that Matt was still stuck as a shivering mess. He was nearly half bent over at this point- but that was expected. Subdrop sucked.

He just freed Matt and watched as the little homeless ginger cuddled close against his side. His hair was so soft when it was clean from a shower, so easy to run his fingers through. Matt really was a pretty kind of guy, despite his tall stature.

“Well that’s a good hundred right in your pocket.” He said, letting Matt bury his face into his chest. He only idly wiped away Matt’s tears with his thumb, grinning a bit. “You were a great sub for me. It’s completely okay to feel a little overwhelmed the first time.” He reassured, but Matt was far from content.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be stuck in a life where he sold out his body to be able to feed himself for christs sake. That was an STD waiting to happen, and a surefire case to get arrested should he be caught prostituting himself! Besides, who in their right mind would actively want a male prostitute? Would he have to hit up gay bars?

The longer he thought about it, the more that he wanted to cry at this point. So he did, turning his head into his “savior’s” chest and letting all of the frustrations out that were steadily penting up inside of his chest.

He knew he would do it again tomorrow, was the thing.

He woke Dylan up with a blowjob, cleaned every room in his house to ensure another forty dollars, plus the twenty from the shabby blowjob. He had never sucked cock before, but just his enthusiasm was well received. He found himself with a throat full of the other in no time, tears prickling his eyes as he held back his gag reflex.

It was so hard to keep it up. He would let Dylan go to work, count through his money, before storing it deep inside of his coat to help avoid people stealing his stuff. He would clean up, make sure the bed was made, just generally try and make himself as helpful as possible. It was admittedly easy money for the next week.

But his timer was up, and the last of the promised money was being placed into his palm. He started down at the bills in his hand, turning them over and examining them with a half smile half grimace on his features.

“You’re a pretty okay guy, Matt. If I ever want some more favors I’ll be sure to hit you up.” He said, looking far too smug and pleased with himself. He even had the gall to pull Matt closer by the back of his head and place a rather shabby kiss against his lips. He scrunched up his nose in displeasure, but accepted it none the less. “Thank you.” he muttered in response, before turning around and walking down the steps of the house.

He had no clue where to go, and nowhere he could think to stay besides sitting on the corner of the street again. He had constructed a sign long ago that simply said, “Homeless and hungry, please help.”

It was easy to settle comfortably against the edge of the wall, letting passerbys move past him and cast the most embarrassing of pitiful looks at him. He felt so small and insignificant, and his mood decreased ever so the more that they stepped past him with judgmental stares. A few times a young child would tug at their parent’s coats, fixing him with a stare that could only raise the corner of his mouth just a bit.

“Daddy, please. This man needs help!” They would try to coo, before instantly being urged away by their parents whenever they got a good look at Matt’s ratty appearance. His hair was much longer now, his clothes worn and stained in places, and he generally felt like the scum of the earth from their words. “He’s just an addict, sweetie. He won’t spend the money on food.”

Tch. Typical. People always wanted to shift the blame onto some demonizing factor regarding his situation. He merely huddled in closer, feeling the cold nip of winter beginning to sting his features. It was late September, and he’s been homeless for about three months now.

He missed having a warm bed to come home to, simple TV, anything to occupy his thoughts rather than the inevitable failure of what he’s become. He even missed Dylan’s house, at this point. His cash was beginning to dwindle down once more, with most of it going towards food and additional coats for winter.

He had a feeling he’d have to resort to some desperate measures soon.

So he found a half used marker in the trash, as well as another cardboard box to write on. He poked his tongue slightly out of his mouth as he wrote, before finally pulling back with a half smile on his features. “Will do **anything** for food and shelter.”

It was subtle, but it should hopefully get the message across as he pocketed the marker and hoisted his sign under his arm. He walked throughout the town, eyes trained down low as he refused to brandish the sign in this kind of neighborhood. It was far too nice, with too many police nearby.

It was a stretch, and it was more dangerous than he’d consider worthwhile, but the slums were the place to go when it came to potentially finding people…interested in his offer.

He sat down along a particularly busy street, placed the sign on his lap- but this time he studied people’s expressions as they walked past.  He noted if they turned to him, if they read the sign, if they seemed to linger. If they turned from the sign to his face, he would flutter his lashes and pull his lower lip between his teeth in a gesture he prayed was suggestive.

It worked.

Most of the times he could find a suitor to go home with, get a brisk shower in, before laying on their bed and letting them do whatever it is they desired. He got food, he got money, he got a place to stay. It was easy to get a bit of extra pocket change to afford some nicer clothes to wear. He wore thrift shop clothes, sure, but he looked a bit less ragged and poor.

His hair was still long, his face typically remained dirty and greasy- but he was looking a bit better overall. And it increased interest in him. He could usually find a place to stay each night of the winter if he begged enough, whether he had to sleep with people or not. Sometimes people let him stay out of the kindness of their hearts.

But nine times out of ten, he had to find himself on his hands and knees to do it.

Today he figured would be no different. Now that he looked less ratty and mangled, he felt enough confidence to step out of the slums where his picking had grown thin. He went into the bustling crowd of the city streets- but to no avail. People didn’t want to pay attention to him here.

He sat and he sat, curling up in the snow overnight, just trying to stay warm as snowflakes gingerly fell onto his lashes. The streets were dead empty at night, his only light being the streetlamps overhead. People rarely walked past, creating a near immaculate sheen of white across the sideway.

It was too cold to sleep.

His teeth were chattering as he tugged every layer he could around him, stomach letting out a rather miserable grumble in protest. He was running low on money once more, and had desperately cut back to one meal every two days in order to conserve it.

He felt like this could be the end of him if he couldn’t make things look up in his favor.

The crunching of snow before him had his attention peeking up from his scarf, taking in the sight of a rather…dashing young man. He was dressed from head to toe in expensive looking clothes, with a red army jacket shrugged tight around his form. He was covering his face with a black scarf- yet what Matt could see was undeniably handsome.

He had deep brown hair that fell before his eyes, framing his face in a way that had Matt’s attention onto him a bit too long. He looked important, especially from his proud stance and gait. The ginger could only wonder if he was a part of the military at one point.

Matt must have stared just a bit too long, because deep grey eyes were landing on his form a moment later. He jumped up in surprise, before feeling the need to look away in shame. There was no way a man that well off would give him the time of day- he’s seen it all before.

Yet the footsteps stopped, and soon began in his direction. If he could hide behind his sign, he would. The thing was getting waterlogged and old anyways. He only peeked up through deep blue eyes to study the man once more, a shadow looming over him as he couldn’t read his expression. Was he going to tell him to beat it? To scram?

“You look kind of cold.” A deep voice grumbled, sending shivers down Matt’s spine for far more reasons than the cold. He felt so small and insignificant in comparison to this man.

Matt could only nod in response, before flinching away when a large hand was reaching towards him. But he seemed to be taken off guard when the man merely wanted to offer it to him. He lowered his sign a moment later, the hem of his scarf falling from his awestruck mouth. “I…” He began, before feeling guilt eating away at him.

“I-I’m sorry, I can leave this area if you want.” He offered, only to feel his chest warming at the sound of the gruff laugh leaving the other. “Nonsense. I was going to give you a place to stay for the night. You look like you could use a warm shower.” He teased, and Matt could only imagine the shock in his expression.

He took the strangers hand a moment later, letting him lift him to his feet and dust the snow off of his trousers. He was still awestruck at the kindness of the man, a pleasant smile slipping onto his chapped and nervous features. “Really? T-Thank you.” He meekly said, before letting the man lead him down towards the direction he was walking initially.

“Think nothing of it.” The Norwegian accent purred, before the small of his hand was gently patting the lower portion of Matt’s back. “It’s too cold for most people to be outside. It’s only the right thing to do. What’s your name?” the stranger asked, curiosity in his eyes as that smile kept on his own face.

“Uhm. It’s Matt, sir.” He stated in as meek of a tone as possible, feeling himself shrinking back in embarrassment when his response pulled a bout of laughter from his savior once more. He was lifting an eyebrow to Matt, clearly entertained. “You don’t need to call me sir,” he began.

“You can call me Tord.”


	2. Full Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord shows him around his house, and Matt gets to use possibly the most intricate shower of his life. But the real question was too prominent on the ginger's mind. Did Tord expect repayment for this? And would he be able to provide?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know something? Not writing 4-7k words per chapter has been a breath of goddamn fresh air. I want to keep these shorter chapter setups because holy shit. I love this.

Matt was still in disbelief. He’s never had someone that was actually…attractive? Rich looking? He didn’t know the right term to use, but he’s never had a man like this before offering to let him stay. Did he want him to do something in return like all of the others? That had to be it.

He couldn’t stop the scenarios running through his head, eyes downcast to his scuffed shoes pushing through the snow. He was walking into richer and richer territory- far nicer than he would ever have wandered before. He felt horribly out of place as Tord entered a passcode into a gated community, before once more guiding him through with a sweep of his hands.

“This is a nice place.” Matt decided to pipe in as they walked through the streets that were practically paved in gold in his eyes. Each building reached easily up to four stories, with expensive details littering each one for a personal touch.

One dude even had a pool in his front yard. Who has a pool/fountain in their front yard?

Matt almost walked straight past Tord’s house- until the man was gently resting his hand on his shoulder and pulling him to a stop. “It’s definitely a nice neighborhood- even if the inhabitants are a tad stuck up for my taste. But Tom wouldn’t live anywhere else.” He teased, motioning to a house that sat directly next to Tord’s…erm. Wow what a house.

It was borderline a mansion, with the most notable details being the large ornate communism symbol sitting above his top floor balcony. It was a deep red in color, contrasting almost hilariously to the light blue and stone of the household Tord was pointing to.

While his looked more like something out of a comic book, the other house almost had a library feel to it. White pillars supported a rather large overhang, with ornate statues of a strange monstrous beast with one eye “guarding” the stairs leading up to the front door.

How rich were these guys?

“He certainly has a lovely house, as do you.” Matt found himself scrambling to say, attempting not to offend his host with too much silence. But Tord was grinning in response, giving Matt’s bony shoulder a playful squeeze. “It’s alright. You can laugh about the communist symbol, but I’m very prideful in my title. Consider it a bit of a rebellion against our current president and his….executive decisions.”

Tord was putting a lot of emphasis on the rebellion part, leading Matt inside the door and watching in amusement as the homeless man struggled to take in the sight of all the decorations. He had so many decorations and displays pertaining to the army, his eyes locked on a World War I German helmet that was on display with a uniform next to it.

Matt studied the decorations in interest, before Tord was stepping up and admiring his own display with a proud grin. “I see you’ve taken notice of my collection. I’ve always been a bit of an army buff back in my day- my dad passed along every generation worth of my family’s collection to me. It makes for an interesting conversation starter.” He noted, before motioning Matt over towards a room branching off to the left. “Come- let me give you the full tour!”

It turns out, Tord’s collection consisted of a lot more than just uniforms and hats. He had guns, ammo, pocket knives, empty grenade shells- his dining room looked like something out of the cold war. Whenever something would catch Matt’s interest, he would pause and find great amusement when Tord would pull the pins or item on display down for him to feel along.

“I trust that you won’t be stupid enough to try and steal any of this, right? I have cameras everywhere.” Despite Tord’s teasing demeanor, Matt was tensing as he knew that the communist was completely serious in his statement. Matt shook his head quickly, shoving the age-old pocket mirror he had been admiring back into Tord’s hands.

“N-No! Not at all! I don’t expect you to trust me right off the bat but-“ Just the look in Matt’s eyes alone had Tord convinced, smiling in amusement as he held up his palm in a motion for the ginger to stop. “Say no more, I’m going to choose to believe you’re a smart enough man for that.”

Matt was bowing his head in embarrassment as Tord led him to another room, this one notably lacking any form of army gear besides a single communist flag along the wall next to a red and blue themed uniform. The name tag read Red Leader, and while Matt had a lot of questions, he noted Tord didn’t so much as direct him towards it.

Instead Matt was interested in the framed picture of Tord himself on the wall, smiling proudly with a pencil behind his ear as the title of the photo said, “Comic strip artist of the year.” He could see a newspaper framed next to it, with some of Tord’s work sitting on the front. It was a whimsical style, Matt already enjoying the antics of the characters that Tord drew.

“I like this one.” Matt said, pointing his fingers to the glass and this time reveling in the way that the man’s large hands fit on his shoulder. He had to admit- he enjoyed it when Tord touched him. It sent a pleasant warmth crawling down his neck, a half smile forming as Tord playfully tapped against the glass.

“This was one of my favorite works, and pulled in quite a hefty amount of revenue for me. People were apparently asking for a full book of my comics after that! It really shot off my success- even before I met my dear friend Tom.” He stated, before noticing just how cold Matt’s clothes still felt.

“Oh- how rude of me! Here I am leading you around my house while you’re still freezing cold! Where are my manners?” He said, hastily beginning to lead Matt up the stairs to the second floor of his house. He passed the second floor, however, before already moving to the third and final as he led the shivering ginger towards his private chambers.

He was stopping to pull out a lavishly soft looking towel, as well as a purple rag, before gingerly placing the items into Matt’s arms. “I don’t have any shampoo in the guest bathroom, I keep forgetting to bug Tom to buy more, but here. You can use any of my soaps- besides the bar ones- and just take your time. I’ll see to it about lending you some clothes.”

Matt was still awestruck at the simple kindness that the other was displaying, staring down at the items in his arms as he still felt speechless to properly vocalize his gratitude. He bit at his lower lip, before hastily stuttering out a, “Thank you,” when he was lead into an ornate bedroom. It was much more personal, with sheets already tossed aside and clothes strewn about the floor. It was…far less intimidating than the other rooms of the house, that was for sure.

He also noticed a DVD sitting on the bed- Lesbian Lovers, starring Kim and Katya. He almost wanted to laugh, Tord quickly moving to his bed and oh so casually flinging it to the side as an innocent grin spread across his lips. “Well uh- bathroom’s right there. I’m going to tidy up and get into some cozier clothes myself.”

Matt was smiling at the other, feeling this warm burn in the pit of his chest as he studied the other for a moment longer. “Thank you.” Was his simple response once more, Tord smiling in response to his words as Matt turned into the lush and neat little bathroom. The walls were lined with what looked to be gold leaf design, with a claw footed tub sitting to the side as a shower better suited for two people caught his attention.

Tord really had it made here.

He couldn’t believe he was staying in a house this nice as steadily he began to peel off his dirty clothes, hating the fact that he had to reek of B.O. and piss since he arrived. He folded the clothed over the claw footed tub, not wanting to just carelessly toss them on the floor. He was raised in a house with manners, even if three months of homelessness dampened them a bit.

When he was stripped down bare to his birthday suit, he studied himself in the mirror. His ragged hair was reaching down to his shoulders, slick with grease and dirt as he frowned. He lifted the strands up, before his eyes wandered down his frankly malnourished body. He pinched the skin between his fingers, before sighing at the way his hipbones were so prominent. At least his ribs weren’t terribly visible.

He turned away from the full length mirror the further down he went, not wanting to see the state of his body to the full extent. At least his thighs were still rather healthy and plump looking?

Matt’s first matter of business was figuring out this shower, and after a few tries with the wrong knobs he had managed to finally turn on the showers with a half-smile on his lips. It was spraying from each side of the wall, his hands testing the water as quickly it was warming up. He’s never felt something more nice in his life as he stepped inside of the spray, already feeling the chill melting from his bones at the pressure.

He didn’t want to move, too content to let his eyes close as days’ worth of filth was rolling down the drain as he stood idly in the spray. He lifted his arms over his head, scrubbing through the tangled mess his hair had become with gentle motions of his fingers. He only thought to actually apply shampoo when he remembered that it was offered to him, taking the bottle down and squirting a generous amount into his palm.

Getting a full lather down was like a personal pampering. He could frankly cry, feeling so much better from a simple lather and rinse to clear his head of dirt and debris and god knows what else. He shook out his long locks, eyes idly moving over the various bottles lining the walls. He managed to find the conditioner as well, before deciding that he would really give himself the full treatment.

After applying a generous amount to his hair and letting it soak in, he was pulling down a lavender scented soap that looked to be far more expensive than even his own previous regal taste. It felt like heaven to slide over his body, the sweet scent filling his nose making him borderline ready to cry. He felt almost like a prince, with water buffeting him from all sides as he rinsed off the sweet soap and let the rag wander to his more delicate areas.

He was giving them an extra attentive cleaning, praying that he would be able to repay his host for his kind actions. Matt was nervous the entire time, however. What if he wasn’t attractive enough to secure himself a place to sleep? What if Tord took one look at his bony frame and turned him out the door? He had to keep himself calm though- it wasn’t worth a full on panic attack to fret about this.

He finished the shower with a regretful little sigh, shutting off the water and feeling a million times better as the towel fluffed up his wet locks. He was wrapping himself in the towel, noting that Tord didn’t really leave him any additional clothes at the door. Well, that was alright.

He took out the brush from his bag, working the knots out of his locks and gently parting his hair to the side in a way that he hoped didn’t look too outright horrible. He studied himself, before pulling out the foundation and sponge that he kept for truly special occasions.

A few coats of foundation and blush later, with a bit of eyeliner, and he knew he looked about as good as he could. He hated that his chin was so prominently taking away from the feminine appeal his clients seemed to enjoy so much- but it was all that he could do as he placed the meager makeup back into his bag.

He shook out his hair to let it keep drying, before finally stepping out with a nervous stumble in his step. He leaned against the doorframe as Tord was sitting back in a tight black tank top and red pajama pants. He was buried deep into a comic, before perking up the moment that Matt came out.

At least it seemed he was taken by surprise, the towel on Matt’s waist dangling so teasingly close to his groin as a playful smile was spread across his expression. Tord’s eyes were wandering over him so slowly, making Matt self-conscious, before deciding it was now or never. He approached the bed and leaned against the footrest, smiling a bit as his fingers brushed along the wood.

“I’m, uh. All done.” He said, hints of amusement in his voice as he let the towel slip just a bit more as he shifted his hips in a slow display. “Thanks so much again for letting me use it- is there anything I can do to repay you?” he asked, letting his words slip from his tongue in a low purr as he saw Tord’s eyes slowly fall half lidded as he studied Matt’s body.

“Erm.” His response wasn’t hesitant, persay, but he seemed to be considering Matt’s question. “It’s really no big deal at all, no need to pay me back for…” He paused when Matt was approaching his side of the bed, a large hand coming up and resting on Matt’s hip as the gravity of HOW the ginger wanted to repay him was finally dawning on him.

“Nonsense, there has to be something I can do.” He said, before one leg was being thrown over Tord’s waist and effectively rendering the Norwegian speechless. His hands rested on both sides of Matt’s hips now, thumb eliciting shivers from the other as he trailed them lazily over the divots of his body. The towel was hardly covering anything, even if Tord wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t there.

“I, uh. Guess I can think of one thing I wouldn’t mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp smut next chapter, then I guess I can introduce overarching plot. Eventually. Even if the plot is almost completely smut based. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, though! Writing about this universe has been a blast so far.


	3. Down n' Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord can't properly fuck Matt without clean STD papers, but that doesn't stop them from having a bit of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a test today, but of course the first thing I gotta do when I wake up is finish this portion of the story. I really enjoyed writing it- thigh fucking is kind of hot when you think about it. Hopefully ya'll enjoy reading it. B)

This was much more familiar territory to Matt, willing his body to rock against his host’s lap as the other guided him down in lazy rolls of his hips. It was all too easy to tilt his neck back onto display, gasping hotly whenever he felt the hold on his hips tighten just enough to threaten bruising. It was driving him near wild, being unable to help the steady temptation to raise his own hands to Tord’s shoulders.

They were rock fucking solid, so nice to bury his nails in when Tord arched forward just enough to bury his teeth into the side of his miraculously unmarred neck. He usually refused to let his hosts go anywhere near his neck when they felt frisky- but something about Tord’s mouth felt all the hotter as he eagerly moved his head to the side.

“Mnnf- Tord.” He gritted out in pleasure, already feeling the pathetic stirring of his cock as he tried to push himself further down onto the communist’s lap. From what he could feel stiffening against his ass, he knew he’d require a hell of a lot of foreplay in order to properly take whatever he was hiding. At first the notion terrified Matt- but he found himself soon sprawled out on the covers while Tord crawled over him.

His towel had long since fallen from his hips, leaving him completely nude to the other’s starving gaze. “It’s been so long since I’ve done anything outside of work, it seems.” The Norwegian confessed, hands sliding along the steady curves of Matt’s thighs. He appreciated the sight more than he wanted to admit.

But a thought seemed to occur to him.

He pinched his eyebrows together a bit, sighing as he had to hesitantly pull away from the ginger with remorse in his eyes. Matt was taken aback by this, before self-consciously crossing his legs with a nervous pitch to his tone. “I-Is something wrong?” He inquired, before Tord was waving his wrist in as casual of gesture as he could.

“I, uh. In my haste I’ve forgotten I must keep my work strictly professional. I can’t sleep with anyone who can’t show me papers of a recent STD checkup. One wrong contraction and Tom will no longer be able to enroll me in his movies.” He said, but already Matt had clearly gotten the hint.

He didn’t even know himself if he was clean. His face fell a bit as hesitantly he took the towel and draped it back over his waist, eyes refusing to so much as look at Tord. “Ah..I’m afraid I haven’t been able to be tested.” He explained, before only giving Tord a half smile as he slid down from the side of the bed. “I-I can let myself back out, it’s no problem at all. I’m sorry for wasting your time-“

Just as Matt was about to walk off, Tord practically dragged him straight back onto the bed with a nervous glint to his eyes. He really didn’t want Matt feeling gross or useless- it was clear so much of his self worth was placed into pleasing his hosts in any way possible.

“Wait! That’s not to say we can’t still do things! I just cannot risk any penetration.” He tried to explain, even if the cloud of hesitance was still so very much clear in Matt’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

It was a valid question, but Tord was all too eager to reply to it as his fingers trailed idly between his thighs. They were so soft and petite, pliant under his palm as he gingerly grabbed the edges and pressed them together. He eyed the way that his thighs thankfully touched, before placing them down and quickly grabbing some lube from his bedside drawer.

“I think those thighs would feel exceptionally nice wrapped around my cock, wouldn’t you think? So lithe and toned, but still retaining just that hint of weight to them. They’re absolutely gorgeous.” He praised, noting the way that his partner was already beginning to flush brightly through his foundation. He had this bashful smile spreading across his lips, such a beautiful contrast to the heavy sadness his features were so used to pulling down into.

And those eyes were absolutely enchanting.

He could get lost in them as he popped the cap of the lube, applying a generous amount to his fingers and palm. At first he was gently fingering between Matt’s thighs, but he had to admit, it was hard to resist moving his fingertips up and seeing his expression scrunch in pleasure from Tord’s hand wrapping around his cock.

His breath came out in hot pants, so pliant under his hold as Tord carefully pulled his back flush against his own chest. He settled him comfortably down, carefully adjusting his thighs to be able to squeeze together around his cock. It took a bit of adjusting, but Matt was finding himself staring at the way that the head of Tord’s cock stuck just outside of his thighs when he was at rest.

It was fascinating to watch as his hips actually began to move, the head and bits of the shaft pushing far enough out to make quite the spectacle. Matt couldn’t pull his eyes away, finding Tord’s broad hands resulting in him steadily growing hotter and hotter under the collar. He was shifting from the strain on his own cock- yet he kept his legs squeezed tight to keep the friction solid on Tord’s end.

He was leaning back, just watching with a hooded gaze as Tord’s pace began to pick up the closer that he got. It was only when he noticed the lube that he got the most devious of ideas. He uncapped the lid of it much to Tord’s surprise, before placing his palm right at the head of his partner’s cock. Every upwards thrust resulted in Tord sliding into the smooth expanse of his palm, just a hint of extra stimulation much appreciated on the Norwegian’s end.

Every single time he passed through Matt’s hot thighs, he nestled quite snugly into a playful squeeze from Matt. He would grit his teeth each time the man twisted his hand about the head, or squeezed it in a way that left Tord breathless. He was getting closer and closer to release by the second, eyes tightly shutting as he buried his face back into the crook of Matt’s neck.

“Fuck, that feels nice.” He muttered, before Matt was stifling a chuckle as his thumb kept pressing over his leaking slit. Tord had to grip Matt’s thighs to keep his head properly on his shoulders, stomach tensing as all he could think about was how pretty Matt’s freckled stomach could look painted in his cum.

He’d make a fucking amazing model, if only he gained a bit of his weight back.

Tord was biting hard on Matt’s shoulder when he felt his orgasm crash over him by surprise, the little vixen having squeezed his head to a point it was nearly borderline painful. But the raw addition of stimulation had tipped him over the edge instead, and Matt was letting out this little whimper as Tord’s cock steadily softened between his warm thighs.

He pulled back to admire his handiwork, before chuckling coarsely when he noted Matt was speckled with thick lines of cum. His cheeks flushed this gorgeous pink color, and he turned his head over his shoulder to try and stare up at Tord to the best of his ability. He looked like a puppy desperate for praise, cum dripping between his fingers.

“Did I do good?” He asked in such a meek tone that Tord couldn’t help but humor a soft kiss to the side of his forehead. “Damn right you did.” Tord confirmed, yet couldn’t help but grunt when Matt was rubbing his thighs together once more over his overly sensitive cock. “B-But, uh. I might need a moment before I go another round.”

Matt actually seemed confused by his words- until realization dawned over him. He let his legs fall open, smiling awkwardly as the state of his cock very much needed tending to. “A-Ah, sorry. I was just trying to uhm…relieve tension.” He said, leaving his statement open ended as he rose to get up. “It’s alright I’ll just clean up and finish up in the bathroom.”

Tord realized that poor Matt hadn’t even gotten a hint of stimulation when Tord was using his thighs. The acknowledgement had him feeling borderline humiliated as strong arms wound around the lithe Brit’s chest. “No need, I can return the favor.” He supplied, with Matt seeming genuinely surprised by this. He was about to implore he could handle it himself when suddenly Tord’s hand was wrapping around the full length of his cock.

He jolted in surprise, before melting into the touch as he pulled his plump lower lip into his mouth. Those rough palms felt like heaven around his neglected dick, head tossed back onto Tord’s shoulders as his own small hand wrapped around his. He liked the intimacy of it, of Tord trying so hard to please him. He was borderline purring when Tord’s free hand went up to idly play with a nipple.

He was shivering when the other pinched it between his finger, before rolling it and pulling a drawn out gasp from Matt. “You know, you’d look absolutely gorgeous with a nipple piercing. Such perky cute buds along a gorgeously freckled chest.”

Tord was starting to catch on to Matt’s praise kink- resulting in the poor ginger being putty in his hands as his hips kept bucking up in time to the passes of Tord’s palm. He was getting so close- but the tipping point was when Tord held up his hand for a bit of lube that Matt still clutched close.

He stared contemplatively down at his fingers, before applying a generous amount and letting his thighs spread open once more. He jolted at just how cold the lube was- until he was turning his head to the side and outright whimpering at the pleasant stretch. He liked the feeling of Tord’s broad fingers pushing deep inside of him, before only opening his eyes when the man wasn’t even going about thrusting or anything.

He tried to grind his hips but Tord’s grip on his cock refused to allow him to do so. It was nice and all to be filled but he’d really kill to actually feel some- “Shit!” Matt’s train of though was completely derailed when a pure jolt of sensation traveled up his spine, before Tord’s fingers kept milking that long drawn reaction from his prostate.

None of his partners before had ever tried to find his prostate.

He was left on cloud nine when his orgasm finally washed over him, possibly the best one in his life as Tord continued to slowly pull him down. His chest was rising and falling in blatant exhaustion, before his head turned down to the additional cum now splattered across his chest and stomach. He frowned. “Well, I think I need another shower.”

Tord was pulling his fingers out with an agreeing noise, namely because his own crotch was soaked in a mixture of precum and lube. He carefully shifted Matt to be able to fit comfortably in his arms, scanning over his cum soaked chest with a sense of pride. He looked gorgeous with white lines blending into his smooth pale skin, and would kill to see just how nice his face would look covered in it.

Oh yes, he’d make a perfect pornstar with a body this nice.

He was holding Matt up as he started the shower around them once more, keeping the ginger close against his toned chest after discarding his clothes in a heap to the side. He idly moved his hands over Matt’s body, paying special attention to washing between his thighs. It was actually pretty cute the way he soaked up the attention like a sponge.

“I think I’m gonna introduce you to Tom tomorrow.” He supplied right near the end of their brisk shower, turning the water off as he wrapped the other in another ridiculously soft towel since the other was kind of…spread across his carpet.

Matt seemed to be thrown off by the offer, eyebrows furrowing in surprise. “Tom? You mean the bloke down the street?” he supplied, before feeling his anxiety hike when Tord nodded his head in confirmation. He was throwing himself casually onto the bed once more- this time moving over just enough for Matt to settle next to him. He wound an arm lazily about the ginger’s freckled shoulders, before clapping twice to turn the lights completely off.

“Yes. I think he’d take a lot of interest in you. But don’t worry- he’s a pretty relaxed guy. I think you’d be exactly what he’s looking for so long as we can get you a clean STD sheet.” He said, his last words trailing into an impressive yawn. He was absolutely exhausted as he practically curled around Matt, not even remembering the last time he could actually…*sleep* with someone.

The intimacy was nice, and Tord merely assumed Matt fell asleep after a soft noise of contemplation at the offer. Little did he know, Matt was absolutely freaking the hell out. Exactly what Tom was looking for? What on earth did that mean?

Matt supposed only tomorrow would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Tom's going to be introduced next chapter, as well as the details between his and Tord's relationship. Debating between if they're going to be actually dating in an open-end relationship, or just casual friends who have sex with each other. Either way those two are going to be a fun dynamic to work with!


	4. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt finally gets to meet Tom, but the man is clearly not at his best. There's a tension between the two that he had not anticipated, yet a job offer still stands to him. Should he take it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know I keep saying this but thank fucking GOD I can sit here and make these chapters only about 2k words each. I'm so exhausted with super long chapters and their formatting. I was suffering.  
> Anyways new chapter yay! Hope ya'll are loving this story as much as I'm writing it.

When Matt woke up, it wasn’t to the blaring noises of traffic, or the unpleasant chill settling through his bones once more. It was to a soft and lavish bed, warm sheets surrounding him on all sides. In his groggy state he almost thought he was at home. He turned over into his bed with a lazy arch of his back, clutching the pillows that smelled oh so good closer to his chest.

His entire body was sore straight down to the muscle, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he got a rest this refreshing. Yet unfortunately all good things must come to an end. The sound of a vacuum switching on had all but startled him up into the air, catching the man at the door by surprise as well.

He was dressed in butler attire, eyes wide in surprise at the clearly unexpected guest in his host’s bedroom. Matt took one look at the man before realizing he was bare from the bottom down. He gripped the sheets and quickly pulled them over his lap, eyes wide in alarm as the other garbled out a quick apology while closing the door behind him. “M-My apologies, sir! I didn’t see you there!”

With his heart beating a mile a minute, Matt knew there was absolutely no way he could fall back asleep like this. He turned his head over to search about the room for a clock of any sort- before catching sight that it was well after noon. He threw the covers off of himself at the realization, having no clue just how long he has overstayed his welcome here.

He had just been about to grab his clothes from the bathroom and run out- when he noticed they were no longer hanging over the tub. He searched the room for a moment with the notion he must’ve misplaced them. It was only when he stepped out and looked at the foot of his bed that he noticed the little note sitting in front of clean looking clothes.

He went over to it, holding the note in his hand as he scanned it over. “Went out with Tom for some early morning shoots- I should be back around twelve-o-clock. Hope these fit you –with love, Tord.”

Matt studied the note for a moment longer, before gingerly placing it down and studying the clothes laid out before them. They were rather casual chic, with looser tan pants and an intricate designed purple shirt. He slid the clothes on, almost wanting to cry from how warm and soft they felt. No doubt these had to be expensive, and the thought of going about with them on left Matt feeling rather undeserving.

He slid towards the bathroom to judge his new appearance. He noted that the shirt was a tad large on him. It continuously slipped off of one shoulder, exposing the plethora of marks that Tord had left on him. Just the memory had his chest fluttering like a trapped bird, trying to stifle his rising infatuation with the man with logic. He was homeless. Tord was rich.

There was no way it would ever happen.

Instead he knew that he would be back on the streets in at least a week’s due, so it was with a heavy heart that he tried to prolong the inevitable. He applied his typical bouts of makeup, trying to use a brush to tame his waving locks to no avail. They were sticking up everywhere from him sleeping on a wet head.

Yet he was taking note of a straightener sitting in a side basket by the mirror. He glanced it over for only a moment, before he knew what he had to do. He plugged it in and impatiently waited for it to heat up, brushing the tangles out of his hair before flattening down the strands he had been working on. At least the heat helped it to lay flat, instead of frizzing up at all angles imaginable.

He didn’t even really recognize himself in the mirror, a small frown on his lips as he brushed through his straightened locks. At least he felt he looked presentable, rather than a complete and utter dirty mess. He wished he could still say that he looked handsome- yet those days were long past.

Matt lowered his head and stepped out of the bathroom, before gathering the courage to head downstairs. If Tom and Tord were going to be home soon, he supposed he could sit in the kitchen and pass the time outside of Tord’s private chambers.

He nearly stumbled back when the butler had been merely standing there the entire time, Matt blinking in surprise at the way he bowed to him. “M-My apologies once more, sir. Master Tord had not informed me of a guest. For that I am deeply sorry for the intrusion.” He spoke in a clear and even tone, before sweeping his arms towards the stairs. “Him and Master Tom have already returned from their respective work, and are taking residence in the lounge.”

Well, there goes his plan of being able to gather his courage before confronting yet another important upper class member of society. Matt could only sigh outwardly at his luck, before nodding his thanks. “It’s no trouble at all.”

He stepped down the regal spiraling staircase, impressed by the smooth marble under his feet. It was a good thing he wasn’t wearing socks- he would hate to have slipped and fell as he descended all the way to the bottom. He had to look about the room to remember which ways Tord had already shown him- before finally he was stepping into what looked to be a cocktail room rather than a traditional kitchen.

Matt almost froze to the spot at the sight of the gentleman sitting at one of the lounges, a cocktail in his hand as laughter rang about them. Tord had a drink of his own in his palm, animatedly describing a story to his new guest.

“And I had told him- I’m no dunce, despite dropping out of highschool. You can talk to me once more when you almost overthrow Norway and run a multi-million dollar porn company!” He had exclaimed, drawing a bout of laughter from the other as he had to place his drink down onto the counter. He moved with a notable regality, his soft brown locks slicked back into a well groomed appearance.

His clothes were quite rich looking as well.

He wore a deep blue trenchcoat that parted into tails at his brown pants, a red scarf wrapped causally about his neck. Everything about the outfit looked to be expensive- but the truly enrapturing part of the man was his completely black eyes resting behind circular lenses.

Matt seemed to be the new center of attention as Tom and Tord turned to face him fully, the ginger wanting nothing more than to be able to huddle into himself and hide away from their gazes. Tord’s lips were spreading into a warm smile- but Tom didn’t appear to be impressed.

Matt forced a half smile onto his face as Tord approached him, an arm winding about his shoulders and pulling him close to the at least semi-familiar man’s side. He made a sweeping motion over Matt’s body, succeeding in making him even more humiliated than when he first stepped down. “Ah, Matt! It’s so good to see you up and about! Tom, I’d like to introduce you to our future prospect and star. Matt, this is Tom. Tom, this is Matt.”

It was a brief greeting, with Matt feeling so much smaller under the other’s gaze. Tom seemed to judge his appearance for just a moment longer, before picking up his cocktail and rising from his seat with a well-mannered smile on his features. He approached Matt and offered a gorgeously manicured hand adorned in an abundance of rings. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Matthew. Tord usually has a good eye for potential stars for my films.” He said, although so much emphasis was put on the usually that Matt had no clue what to make of Tom.

He swallowed a bit, willing his palm to not shake as he took Tom’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Uhm. He’s a real swell guy, from what I know.” He supplied, causing Tord’s laughter to make his chest do that painful clench once more. He really was a bundle of good energy, even if the army memorabilia was a tad bit intimidating.

“No need to look as if Tom will bite your head off, Matt. He’s a bit of a grump, but he’s got a good heart.” Tord reassured, although Matt had to admit. He more than likely just flushed an even darker color in response to Tord’s statement. Was it really that obvious he was utterly terrified of Tom?

The man in question still had that pleasant smile on his face, but lord knows what he was seeing when it came to Matt. Did he see his pale features? His gaunt frame? The hickeys on his neck? He felt as if he would spontaneously combust under Tom’s gentle and even gaze. He was unreadable as Tord and Tom continued to discuss over his shoulder.

“And tell me, Tord. Why is he the best candidate to be Mark’s newest partner?” he inquired in an even tone, before pulling up a new seat and sitting down with his ankle crossed over his thigh. His hands folded daintily over his lap, but his stance held the demeanor of a predator. He was staring Matt down like he was a piece of prime cut, and just the sight had the poor boy’s anxiety rising.

It seems even Tord was taken aback, before he rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. At least he kept Matt close to his side. It was a grounding force for his anxiety, and Matt wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t find himself clutching the side of Tord’s loose red shirt. “I mean, have you seen the guy? He’d compliment Mark almost perfectly.”

Tom seemed to take this into consideration, head tilting up and down when his eyes couldn’t portray the action. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, before finally unfolding his hands and bringing the cocktail to his lips to take an impressive gulp from the glass. It was only when he placed it down that Tom noted the distaste in his expression.

“He’s thin. Too thin. And his hair looks to be a mess.” Was his final judgement, much to both Matt and Tord’s surprise. Tord was the first to break his gaze from Tom to scan down to Matt, before narrowing his gaze at his friend. Tom’s never been this outright rude before, and it was striking an annoyed chord with him.

“Actually, yes. He is thin, and his hair is a mess. But that’s because I plucked him from the cold of the street not even twenty four hours ago. He’s homeless, Tom. He isn’t at his best.” He said, pulling Matt just a bit closer. “And I don’t think he needs any harsh words hurting his already bruised self-confidence. I for one think he’s gorgeous, and I can see the potential something as simple as a few burgers and a haircut can give him.”

Tom was looking more and more enraged by the second, while Matt’s gaze dropped to the floor. Tom was right. This was why he had refused to even so much as get his hopes up in the first place. He almost wished that he would have never run into Tord- this hint of kindness was going to hurt ever more when it was torn away from him.

“Oh. I can tell you think he’s gorgeous from over here.” Tom had said, jaw tense as his finger pointed to the plethora of bruises across his shoulders. Under his gaze, Matt was slowly sliding the shirt up in a futile attempt to cover the bruises. He wanted to cry.

Of course it was Tom’s next words that really did hurt more than anything. “Besides, now do I need to worry about whatever this street rat contracted to you? Was a quick fuck really worth your career, Tord?” he said, before the sound of a fist slamming against wood was jostling Matt out of his stupor.

Tord had moved from his side to stand before Tom, quickly reaching down and grabbing the cocktail from him. There was something dark in those deep grey eyes, something that had Tom on edge as the cocktail glass trembled in Tord’s tight hold. He looked to be absolutely fucking livid.

“Tom. You’re a fucking dick when you drink, and I told you not to overdo it this morning. It’s not Matt’s fault your business is on the decline because you can’t fucking DIRECT when you’re SHITFACED.” He hissed, before slamming the cocktail glass down and not even caring when the thin glass bottom shattered and sent the contents of the glass spilling over the side of the table.

Tom looked to be scared, his eyes blown wide in distress as Tord slowly began to rein in his anger. He took a deep breath, unclenched his fist, before settling a semblance of a smile on his features. “Now can you just give me a week with Matt here, and I promise you he’s going to be a goddamn star.” He reassured, even when Tom still was hunkered down into his seat with a baffled expression on his face.

Matt didn’t really like the tension in the air, and the guilt that all of this was caused by him had consumed him with a deep rooted anxiety. He fucked up, didn’t he. The ginger swallowed in tight throated distress, a shaking to his tone as he took a few steps back. “I-It’s okay, Tord. I don’t want to be a bother. I can just. Go and get my clothes and get out of your hair. I’m sorry.” He tried to apologize, before Tom was letting out a low sigh.

He rested his head into his palm, his regal posture falling to expose this hunkered down and small man. He looked outright exhausted, only pulling his features up into a half smile half grimace after Tord left his side. “No. I. Matt, I’m sorry. Tord is correct. I’m a bit inebriated at the moment, and I perhaps have let my emotions speak louder than my logic. You have gorgeous eyes.” He said, catching Matt by surprise.

He didn’t really know how to respond, but Tom was rising from his seat with a bit of a stumble to his step. He moved closer to Matt, holding his hand out to him and fixing him with a much calmer smile. “I can see why Tord enjoys your presence. I may just be able to make room for you in my cast so long as you gain a bit more weight. We don’t want to display anything even closely pertaining to anorexia, even if it’s legitimate malnourishment that’s resulted in your condition. It’s bad for society’s standard of beauty. And you need a clean STD sheet for me to enroll you as well.” He explained, the words flying over Matt’s head though.

Tom called his eyes beautiful.

He took the other’s hand with his still-trembling grip, giving it a firm shake as he was able to get a better look at the man before him. He was shorter than him by just a hair, this tired look seeming to be forever engrained in the corners of his eyes. He only realized that Tom had been waiting on a response when the other fixed him with a slightly confused stare. “Well? What do you say, Matt? Are you still interested in a potential job despite my rude demeanor? Which I apologize readily for, by the way.”

Matt had a lot to think about regarding the situation, but one thing was for certain; he needed a job. He had one fully within his capabilities falling straight into his lap, and just that alone had him firmly gripping Tom’s hand and shaking his head.

“Uhm. It would be my pleasure.”

Now all he needed to do was gain a healthy amount of weight in a week, and provide a clean sheet to Tom. Easier said than done, huh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man Tom's a little cunt right now, isn't he? Sure wonder why. It totally isn't because he's got a raging hard on for Tord and wishes the sexually active Communist would just settle the fuck down for five minutes and not sleep with anything that moves. Definitely not that.
> 
> Don't worry, him and Matt will start getting along soon though.


	5. Spa Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt gets spoiled to all hell, and Tord is all too happy to indulge him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, nothing like flexing the old fingers back into one of my series after going off and doing my own thing for a bit.  
> Frankly I just wanted Matt to get pampered to all fuck these next few chapters. Eventually his true personality, the vain Matt we all know and love, will start to emerge again. Looking forward to that slow and gradual personality shift again!

“Well…that could have gone a lot better than anticipated.”

Matt’s attention tilted up to Tord as he was already buried deep into a plate of fettuccini alfredo that were leftovers in Tord’s fridge. Even for just being leftovers, the taste had made Matt want to cry. This was high class food, perfectly cooked and seasoned with a blend of ingredients the Brit would no doubt feint upon hearing.

He shoved another mouthful in as quick as he could. He had a feeling Tord wanted to say more, given that Tom had just left after quietly discussing details of the job opportunity and acting in such a professional manner that it had made the tension only rise in the room. Tord sighed as he placed his apple down.

“Tom usually isn’t like that. I assure you, he’s just. A loose lip when he’s drunk. He more than likely didn’t even mean any of it, granted that man’s skinnier than a twig as it is.” Tord tried to reason, fixing Matt with a smile that had the noodles almost catching in his throat. Why did Tord have to be so painfully handsome?

He swallowed them down and attempted to mirror a smile in return. “It’s alright. I know how people can get while drunk. Although he really…isn’t wrong about either of those thing?” Matt tried to supply, moving his hands up to idly twist the ginger locks between his fingers. He had to look like a mess with just this hair alone. And add that to the fact he was bordering one hundred pounds for being 5’8? He was in pretty bad shape.

Yet Tord was waving that off with a loud noise akin to a “pffflbt.” He withdrew a summer sausage from the contents of his fridge, slapping it down on the table and wielding a rather large knife. He began to slice it into pieces after unwrapping it, before offering the treat to Matt. “That’s why we’re trying to get some good food in you, you know. Help put some meat on those bones before putting you on a healthy diet. Hope you like protein shakes and fruit eventually.” Tord threatened, tossing the apple in his hand into the air.

Matt gulped loudly as he swallowed the noodles. “But, Tord. We really need to keep in the possibility that I might not be clean.” He tried to argue, “So what happens if I’m not? I’m basically useless at that point. No need to keep me around for anything, and I don’t expect you to do so either.”

God, the man’s self-hatred was going to kill him. Tord’s expression steadily began to scrunch up in displeasure, before he sat on the stool next to Matt and popped one of the sausages into his mouth. “If you really think I’m throwing you back to the streets, then you’re wrong. I can get you a job somewhere, get you a nice studio apartment or house, and get you back on your feet. I’ve got enough connections to do that in a heartbeat.”

Well that was…reassuring? Matt didn’t really know the right words, given that he felt like he didn’t deserve any of that kindness. He had just brandished a sign on the side of the street after failing to do something as simple as pay bills or car payments. He picked up one of the sausages, placing it on his tongue before nodding his head. He wouldn’t argue, but he did feel as if he didn’t deserve this at all.

Tord seemed to be contented, because he rose up a moment later with a small sigh leaving him. “Well, I guess I know what we’re doing today.”

“What’s that?”

* * *

 

Apparently **that** was borderline dragging Matt around town on a motorcycle that he had to question on if it was legal. It sounded like an atomic bomb dropped in the highway whenever he revved the motor up, the sleek red and black design nothing that Matt has ever seen before.

Oh, and it was fast.

Matt had his arms wound tight around Tord’s middle, eyes shut as the acceleration was nearly jerking him straight backwards. At one point Tord flipped the bike into a wheelie, drawing a terrified scream from his passenger as Matt clung on for dear life. He wanted off this ride now, thank you very much!

But when the bike did come to a stop, and Matt managed to get the contents of his stomach under control, he slumped down against Tord as the Norwegian laughed in delight. “Well? What did you think?” He asked, turning around to look at the puddle that Matt became in the back seat. He was covering his mouth, before a small burp left him as hastily he swallowed the feeling of whatever wanted to come up.

“F-Fantastic.” He said, nearly falling off of the bike when he tried to get off of it. He looked much better being on the ground once more, seeming almost as if he wanted to kiss the very ground he walked on. “It was. Fun. So fun, in fact, I think I’d prefer to save that for SPECIAL OCCASIONS. You know, to uh. Not taint the amount of fun in the future?” He tried to supply, but found himself with Tord’s hand slapping right along his back.

“Ahh, yes. I know exactly what you mean.” Tord said, supplying a cheesy wink that he hoped Matt would understand the significance by. It was cute how his new companion looked so much more relieved when Tord indirectly stated he wouldn’t be taking him for such a wild ride again.

The first thing that Tord wanted to do was apparently a haircut. He strut into the regal looking establishment, friendly vibe gone as he leaned on the side of the desk and began to do the talking. Just from the décor alone it was clear this place valued only high income customers. Matt felt horribly scrutinized as some of the worker’s eyes landed on him in the doorway and scoffed.

He didn’t want to shuffle after Tord, but inevitably he found himself pulled in by a broad arm. “And I believe my friend Matt here will need the works. Full spa treatment, complete with manicure and pedicure.” He said, already pulling out his card as he placed it on the counter.

Matt’s mouth could have dropped open on the spot. A full spa treatment? He hardly had time to question it before the card was being swiped, and Tord was walking with him to one of the girls who had been giving him a dirty look earlier. She looked taken aback by Matt’s company, and immediately her mood brightened up to a fake degree.

“Well hey there sweetie, what can I get for ya today?” She asked, already brandishing a drape to go around Matt’s front. Awkwardly he slid into the chair, looking at himself in the mirror. What…should he get? He was so used to his hair for the longest time that he really didn’t know what to get.

Finally he just pulled out his almost-dead cell phone. He pulled up the camera roll and began to go through it, before finding one of his older pictures of him with his mom and dad. He looked so much more dapper back then. Holding up the phone, the girl seemed to study it for a moment. “Ahh, you’re looking for volume and layers. Alright, I can do that.”

Tord looked at the phone in interest when it was handed back over to Matt, but didn’t say anything. Instead he watched as bunches of ginger hair began to dot the floor below them, Matt flinching each time that a water bottle soaked his hair down into something manageable. His head felt so much lighter the longer that she went.

But eventually he was being brought to a sink to have his hair lathered and washed. “I put some conditioner in there to really soften up the follicles, and get it ready for the product. It’s so healthy and shiny!” She piped in, Matt cringing just a bit. Of course she was trying to kiss ass now that someone with money was next to him.

When he sat in front of the mirror once more, he was amazed to see the results. Whatever it was that she put in his hair had added a healthy glow to it that made the ginger even more prominent, before suddenly a hair drier was blowing the hair in front of his face.

“Now, keep in mind, the style you showed me needs product to keep its shape. You’ll need to work with it every single day. If you don’t want that I suggest you let me know so I can cut it down further alright hun?” She asked, annoying Matt even more than she really already has.

“Yes. I am aware. It was my hair, might I remind you.” he snided in response, Tord stifling a chuckle into his palm at Matt’s attitude. She didn’t seem pleased, but a customer was a customer. She just worked a dollop of gel into his locks before spreading it through with a comb as she dried the bangs. “Very fair point.”

Tord was leaning against the desk as slowly Matt’s hair dried and locked into place, the ginger’s deep blue eyes borderline glowing in excitement when he began to actually recognize the man in the mirror once more. He turned his head from side to side when the finished product was done, looking far more neat and kempt as he fluffed up the hair in the back just a bit.

“Alright! All done, honey. You look like a million bucks.” She said, placing her tools on the side of the table and dusting the remaining hair off of his shoulders. He felt like a million bucks too. Tord was grinning as he rested his hand on the side of Matt’s shoulder. “Doesn’t he? I think he looks more handsome already.” He praised, catching Matt by surprise.

He was…handsome? He felt color rapidly rising to his cheeks as he tilted his head down, smiling. Tord thought he was handsome. He glanced back up in the mirror one more time as they passed it by to enter the spa room. He really did look better, didn’t he?

And he only felt better the longer he was pampered. A steam bath? A charcoal facial? Manicure and pedicure? A fucking massage? All of this was just the top surface of the pampering Matt received by the hands of other skilled workers. Tord sat back the entire time, idly passing time on his phone while Matt could cry from how good his skin and nails felt after a thorough cleaning.

Of course the full body wax was…less than ideal. But Tord was right next to him getting the same treatment. Who knew hot wax so close to the dick could make your life so much worse? But in the end he was clean and smooth all over, unable to stop feeling along his legs and arms.

“Tord, do you see this?” he asked, holding out his leg and showing the way the skin was practically glowing after a light oil treatment. His toes were painted in delicate light purple, with intricate swirls of deep violet dotting the area. “I can’t even remember the last time I had a spa day!” he cooed, feeling rushes of warmth moving through his body as he sat in the final touchup area.

His eyebrows were waxed into delicate arches, his face applied in a perfect shade of concealer- and by the very end of it he couldn’t even recognize himself as the homeless man he was so long ago. He felt a million times better as he rose up from the seat, turning to Tord with such a bright smile. “I’m…I’m handsome!” he stated, unable to stop himself from turning back to the mirror and nearly crying from how good he looked.

“I didn’t think I’d ever look like this again.” He said, hands moving up to slowly rest on the side of his face. He wanted to cry. Honest to god he did. So right as they stepped out of the hair dressers he threw his arms tight around Tord’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss.

He didn’t really know what came over him- but Tord wasn’t complaining as broad arms slowly moved to pull Matt close. They stayed locked like that for just a few more moments, before Matt was the first one to break it.

He looked into Tord’s deep silver eyes, feeling the way his stomach fluttered from how affectionate they sparkled. He turned his gaze down once more, chuckling under his breath as he shyly moved back into his own personal bubble. “Oh, uhm. Sorry if that was kind of sudden.” He tried to apologize, only to have his chin pointed up and warm lips to be pressing back against his.

He swore he could die.

“Think nothing of it, Matt.” He reassured as he pulled back, “Because we have quite a bit more shopping to do before your appointment at the doctors. To be sure you’re…erm. Clean.” He said, trying to be as broad as possible as he took Matt’s hand in his own.

Did Tord say shopping? Today was going to be a good day.


	6. Gucci Gucci

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord and Matt visit their first stop, intent on getting Matt some better clothes. They get a bit distracted in the changing room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured you guys could use some more smut. Blonde Amputee, my hungry readers. Blonde Amputee.

It was one thing to pass by a Gucci store in the mall, glancing at the rows of mannequins that already looked far wealthier than you.

It was another to be inside of one.

Matt had never felt the confidence to so much as step foot on the premise, knowing already that the cheapest clothing wouldn’t be dipping into even the two hundreds. It was designer, it was sleek, and Tord had absolutely no problem pulling a worker aside and asking for options for outfits.

“He likes purple, yeah-“ Tord began, holding up a purple leather jacket with a price tag that nearly had the ginger toppling over. That was what he would be lucky to make in a month, and Tord so easily could toss it over his shoulders with some black high waisted jeans. “I think this would be a good combination,” was his only justification.

The worker buzzed about, pulling outfits with sweaters, tank tops, flannels- anything adorning the color purple that she could think to toss inside of Tord’s basket. Despite the outwards exterior of the two clearly not coming along as impressively wealthy, this strange man just kept adding on to his bill by needlessly tossing any suggestion into consideration.

Matt could only hide behind his hands as workers held up article after article of clothing over his body to let Tord gauge for himself whether he liked it or not. The man would appraise each thing as it appeared in front of his companion, scrutinizing it, before inevitably tossing it into the basket anyways when Matt’s fingers lingered on the fabric just long enough to secure his decision.

By the time Matt reached the changing rooms, there were well over ten outfits piled up onto the hangers. “Do I…really need to try all of this on? I mean this is a lot of money Tord and I really don’t want to-“

The ginger was quickly silenced by a hearty round of laughter, feeling color rising behind his foundation as hastily he began to shrug off his own clothing to slip a pair of tight jeans over his hips. They left plenty of room to move, yet it was clear it was meant for a size or two larger than him. “Alright alright, I get it. I should stop whining about the prices.”

He slid the first flannel over the designer jeans, before appraising himself in the mirror. Just the fabric alone was enough to have him sold for comfort, yet seeing just how nice the outfit complimented his form? Matt could feel his confidence slowly returning as he threw open the changing room door.

Tord was nose deep in a fashion magazine when he noticed Matt had emerged. At the first sight of the man, the commie let out a low whistle as Matt gave a full turn. It was as if he was putting on a show, stepping one foot lazily forward as he turned his body from side to side. “It’s so...comfortable!” he exclaimed, grinning as Tord let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. After looking through the rest of the store that was the only semi decent thing I could find in regards to casual wear.”

Sparing another glance around, Matt honestly couldn’t blame the guy. Fashion was up for interpretation, sure, but he couldn’t understand the appeal of some of these clothing choices. It was enough to make him borderline refute the validity of their lines. Seriously? A fuzzy blue trench coat with gaudy flower décor and yellow trim? Who would actually wear that?

But the next few outfits fit his taste far better.

Tord had a good eye, Matt thought as he turned and stared his ass over in the leather pants he was wearing. Usually he would scoff at the choice of materials, but in this instant he was enjoying the way it clung to his still-healthy thighs. He turned around, adjusting the leather jacket that went with it and darker purple undershirt. He looked almost like…a punk rocker.

It wasn’t what he would usually wear, sure, but Tord’s reaction would be the final tipping point for saying yes. The man couldn’t keep his eyes off of Matt as he sauntered out and struck a playful pose for his audience. The way Tord pulled his lower lip into his mouth was erotic in a strange sense, silver eyes scanning over his body.

“Perhaps I should help you get the next outfit on.” He offered, suddenly closing the magazine and placing it to the side as he stood up to enter the changing rooms. Matt was baffled, quickly looking over Tord’s shoulders and feeling his throat close as Tord all but stuffed him back into the room.

“Wait, what if someone sees us?” he tried to reason, before feeling all complaints die on Tord’s tongue as he was all but shoved against the wall of the changing room. He was letting out a soft exhale of air as greedy hands slid under the hem of his shirt, smoothing along his ribs and teasing up his flesh. He had to muffle a small gasp as Tord’s hand came up to gently pinch the buds along his chest.

The other didn’t seem to care much that they were in a high end store, and that only became clearer when Matt felt the outline of his cock pressing against his thigh. Matt did the first thing he could think to do- he grabbed the bulge in his pants and nearly moaned from the pleased growl leaving his lover.

“You really like the outfit, huh?” he asked, before having to bite his lower lip when Tord’s own hand slid along his leather clad thigh. Good thing this outfit had some room given that Matt was feeling a little strained from all of this attention.

The man grinned in response, mouth trailing down his jaw to leave gentle kisses and bites along his skin. “No. I absolutely hate it. Will that get it off of you faster?” he asked, already trying to part open the jacket, leaving Matt whining in the back of his throat. He only thought to push lightheartedly when he heard the stall door next to them rattling.

“Tord. We can’t. There’s just…too many people here.” He tried to whisper, only Tord was glancing down between them.  Despite the anxiety building in regards to this situation…his hand had yet to stop moving over the bulge in Tord’s pants. This little fact didn’t go unnoticed, and the brunette was eager to thrust his hips into Matt’s shaky grasp.

“Well we can’t exactly step out with erections either, can we?” he muttered into the shell of Matt’s ears, his arguments steadily melting as thick fingers quickly worked over his own erection. Without even realizing it, Tord had already parted open the fly of his pants and fished his cock from the confines of the leather. Matt couldn’t even hope to stop the sigh of relief from leaving him. “God..”

Despite his distraction, he tried to return the favor with shaking hands. He pawed dutifully at the buttons, tongue sticking out in concentration as he had to bend his wrist as such an awkward angle to properly reach into his pants and search for his cock. “Really Tord? Commando again? Do you ever wear boxers?”

He only shrugged in response, pulling a sigh from Matt as he attempted to stroke Tord in return. He was probably doing a really shabby job, sure, but Tord wasn’t complaining as his hips rolled into soft hands. Matt could almost cry from the feeling of his hands along his hips, pulling him closer in the cramped confines. He could smell the cologne that Tord doused himself in, heady and thick in his nose and just so **him**.

He could almost forget he was in a Gucci changing stall, with an associate no doubt nearby as Tord’s hand stroked him closer to release. He rolled his hips back against his partner’s thigh, having to bite hard at his lower lip as he tilted his head under Tord’s jaw. “Fuck fuck fuck…” He muttered, before playfully nipping at the bobbing adam apple below his lips. Tord clearly wasn’t holding up well either.

“Wait-“ Matt requested, Tord’s hand stopping and pulling back as the ginger situated himself with his back to the wall. When he pulled Tord closer it was to an eager kiss, his hand at a much better angle to be able to properly grip the full length of his thick cock. Admittedly, the weight of it in his hands was more than pleasing to the brit.

“I want to see you.” he muttered, smiling, which in turn had Tord eagerly reciprocating. Their mouths moved in tangent together, a gentle push and pull with the hint of tongue adding such an intimate edge to it. Matt was convinced he could kiss him for hours- or at least as long as he could last.

Hint, this wasn’t long.

He only had to pull back when he felt his orgasm eminent, his hand clenching into Tord’s jacket as a desperate sigh left him. “Tord. I’m gonna cum.” He said, though his question was heavily inferred. Where was he going to cum?

Thinking quick, Tord withdrew a tissue that he had been keeping in his pocket, offering it to the other as his own hand was much more occupied carding through Matt’s silky smooth locks. At first he stumbled with the tissue, nearly dropping it as his orgasm came quite suddenly. It washed over him in waves, pleasure languidly drifting through him as he finished himself inside of the offered tissue.

It was with a small sigh that he finally came down from his high, his hand having momentarily stopped stroking and leaving Tord so painfully close himself. It was only when that heavy weight shifted in his hand that he got back in focus, hand moving in quick bursts now that pleasure wasn’t muddling his thoughts.

“Sorry, just got a little lost in the moment.” He confessed, albeit with a sheepish smile. Tord only grumbled in return, his arm bracing himself against the wall as both of Matt’s hands allocated to his cock. Just the feeling of two skilled hands running over his shaft was drawing him closer to the edge- add that to the hungry look in those blue eyes, and the flushed exterior of his partner?

Tord was gone as Matt squeezed around the head, a small whimper leaving him as he wasn’t quick enough to pull the tissue up. Streams of white went over the crotch of his pants, the sight far more pleasing that Tord had anticipated. He stared down at their mess as he caught his breath, thumb smearing easily through the mess. Thank god they were leather.

Matt watched as Tord made a halfhearted attempt to remove the cum from his apparel, only instead smearing it around into a wet mess. Lightly batting his hands away, Matt was quick to use the tissue to sop up the combinations of their messes. “Well at this point it would be rude if we didn’t buy this pair. Considering you already got your jizz all over it.”

Of course the Norwegian couldn’t even fake being embarrassed about it. His smile was smug as lazily he buttoned up his pants, gathering the remaining clothes under his arm. “Leave that one on. I’m going to just have the cashier scan the tags, so you can wear it out. It looks better on you than your other clothes.” He said as he plucked each price tag off of the clothes with a quick snap of his wrist.

With a composure that Matt could only envy, Tord was stepping out of the booth, not a hair out of place. He strutted out like he owned the place, barely even raising an eyebrow from the staff as instead he placed his purchases on the counter.

Matt let out a small sigh. With legs that held the structural integrity of jello, he made his way out after his companion. This was only the first store that they visited. He just hoped they wouldn’t be stopping in the bathroom of every changing room along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels so good to be back in a nice little writing swing! Hope you all are still enjoying it! <3


	7. How the fuck are we fitting this on a Motorcycle.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few more trips to different stores, Matt and Tord have their arms piled high with boxes and bags. Perhaps the Motorcycle was a bad idea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I planned to fucking FINALLY have Matt get tested...but you know what, I love character interaction too much okay? I want them to be happy. I make everyone sad and hurt in every other fic I write, so I'm gonna make these boys so goddamn happy. 
> 
> Next chapter is when the ball will get rolling, alright?

It turns out that Gucci was just the starting point.

Even on shaking legs and high running hormones, Tord was content to drag him to every single store that he deemed a necessity in the long run. He was fitted for a tux, given plenty of casual grade clothing to wear from far less upscale stores, he was given personal products to be able to properly stock himself in the guest bathroom- everything Matt could have ever needed and more.

As of now they were sitting in a Prada store, straps and buckles being fastened to his legs as a frankly ridiculous pair of purple and pink sneakers were placed onto his heel. “See! Wow, look at how well they suit him!” the store clerk praised, clasping his hands together with a bright smile as he tried to work up the hype for these…frankly hideous shoes.

They looked like something a child would be caught wearing, and nothing close to even being worth the staggering 800 dollar price. Matt was careful to slide the shoes off himself, clear on his decision. “Erm. No, they’re nice but uh. Not my style?” he tried to supply, helplessly looking to Tord for backup.

Yet his friend looked absolutely unamused by those shoes. “I’m not going to lie, those were hideous. When I said casual shoes I meant a classic pair of sneakers. Not…little children’s shoes.” He said, picking up the box and shoving it back towards the man. At least he had the sensibility to be embarrassed. He sighed, bringing the box back to the shelf.

“Trust me, I know they’re ugly. We can’t sell them.” He said, humor laced into his tone as he placed them back. “I mean, have you seen some of these designs? Fashion really is blind.” He muttered, drawing a chuckle out of Tord as Matt had to stop himself from outright laughing. You know it’s bad when not even the employees would recommend them.

What he pulled out next was far more sensible for a common shoe, just a simple black and white sneaker. Even if the shape was a bit off, Matt found them to be a far better fit as he arched his toes up and admired the laces and design. They were ridiculously comfortable too. “You know what? I like these.” He stated, Tord perking up as he nodded his approval.

“I think they’re much better as well. Put them with the rest, yeah?” he said, motioning to the 6 boxes of dress and formal shoes Matt had already collected. He was about to get up and call it a day when suddenly Tord’s hand on his shoulder had him stopping in his tracks. “Actually, while we’re here, we need to get you some shoes in your size for the films.” He said, a hint of a grin on his features.

Matt seemed to be a bit deflated at that. “Tord, like I said, we don’t even know if-“ he was cut off with a wave of the Norwegian’s hand. “Come now, quit your worrying! I am sure you will be fine, and even so, it’s always good to have a variety on set. Quit worrying your pretty little head and I’ll pick you something out.” he said, playfully carding his fingers through Matt’s hair.

As much as he loathed to admit it- the compliment paired with the gentle fingers along his scalp had him borderline melting. He sighed, relenting, as he leaned back against the plush seat. “Alright, I see your point. It really is futile to argue with you, isn’t it? I know I said it before but just. Wow, Tord.” he jabbed, amused by Tord’s smile as he had already picked out something from a shelf around the corner.

He placed it down in front of Matt, carefully lifting the lid up and revealing the shoes beneath. “It’s why Tom hates me so much. I’m a goddamn pain in the ass to manage.” He jabbed tauntingly, before pulling out a pair of….stripper boots.

There was no other way to describe them. They were long, rubbery at the knee, and easily could reach up to the thigh. Just the sight of them had Matt’s nose crinkling in distaste, yet he accepted them anyways. “Ah…yes…I wouldn’t expect anything less than this for your profession.” He noted, turning them from side to side.

Tord shrugged his shoulders. “Never know if we’d need to put you in a BDSM film. I feel like these would suit you well for it.” He defended, Matt unable to help but notice the deep flush on the worker’s face as slowly he picked up their current boxes and brought them to the register for safekeeping. Hell, Matt couldn’t even blame the guy at this point.

He let out a slow sigh as finally he smoothed down the leather pants he wore, thankful they were already pretty tight and he wouldn’t need to subject himself the humiliation of hiking up his pants. He slid the stretching rubber over his leg, nearly jumping when it snapped tight to his skin.

He cringed as finally he managed to fit it over his legs, attempting to rise. It was a problem when a pair of heels finally managed to put him to Tord’s height. He looked at the other in mild discomfort, receiving an equally perturbed stare. They were eye to eye, and Matt slowly began to look around the room as he wobbled unsteadily on the platform heels. “So this is what it’s like to see at your height.” He jabbed, Tord pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Alright alright I get it, take them off. They were a bit much anyways.” He said, already ducking down another aisle in order to look for much more…sensible heels. At least he managed to find a good pair of simple black strapping platforms. He pulled them up to admire them, before holding them up so Matt could see. “I think this would work for the whole bad bitch vibe in a film, wouldn’t you think? Or maybe even just a nice casual shoe.”

Matt only turned his head up when the rubber monstrosities were firmly back inside of their box, noting the thicker base and better platform. And woah, they actually stopped at the ankle! He kicked his previous box aside, moving over to study them closer to Tord. “You know what? I like these.” He said, already grabbing a box and jogging over to the seat.

Hey now, don’t judge. A good pair of heels really show off his calves! If it wasn’t for his father’s disapproval, he probably would have worn heels. Lord knows his mother was accepting, albeit a bit airheaded. He sat down onto the seat, already liking the way the soft internal fabric felt against his heel as he strapped them on.

When he stood up, he couldn’t stop staring over the way his legs just looked….better. He was taller, shoulders squaring more in pride as he turned and twisted about in them. They were a bit hard to walk in, sure, but it was worth it to give a little spin and hear a cheer from their ever so supportive associate. It was a bit of an ego boost to hear the quiet clapping, a thumbs up flashing in his direction.

He chuckled a bit, lifting one leg into the air and admiring the curve of his thighs and calves. Tord was already grabbing the box from the floor and bringing it to the aisle, as well as a few pairs of boots and stilettos that matched the general size he was getting. “I have a funny feeling he isn’t going to want to take those off.” He noted, already pulling out his card. “I say we have plenty of a selection now. Thank you for your help.”

Matt was already bounding up to them by the time the card had already been swiped, his eyes wide at the sheer mountain of boxes laid out before them. They already had armfuls of other clothing to carry- how on earth were they to balance all of these boxes? “Tord, oh my god, how many more did you grab?” he asked, covering his mouth in shock.

The worst part was that Tord had to pause and count them. “Erm…uh…Well they’re all the same sizes here, so I just grabbed a bunch I thought looked cute. There were some mary janes, pumps, even a few boots I thought would be nice so uh. I grabbed em?” the end was mainly stated as a question, although Tord didn’t even have the self-decency to look embarrassed about not even keeping track.

Matt just sighed, leaning his arm on Tord’s shoulder and fixing him with what he hoped was an appreciative smile. It was a bit exasperated as he gently patted the toned arm underneath. “Tord, you really are one of a kind. I cannot thank you enough but. That’s a lot of boxes.” He said, sweeping his hand over to the pile. “How on earth are we getting all of that on a motorcycle?”

At the mention of what ride awaited them, Tord’s face slowly fell in realization. They had enough bags already sitting in the corner of the store, add that to a good thirteen boxes piling high? Shit. He slammed his palm over his face, a sigh leaving him as already he had his phone in his hand. “Today was my butler’s early day off, too. There’s no way he could bring a car at this time.”

But there was someone who could.

He let the phone ring for just a moment, tapping his fingers along the desk, before grinning. “Hey, Thomas. Are you busy currently?... No?”

Matt could hear the exasperated sigh on the other end already.

“Okay perfect now how much do you love me.”


	8. What's up, doc?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With an agreement to go to dinner later with Tom and his guests, Tord and Matt are speeding off to his appointment for his testing without the burden of twenty thousand fucking bags.  
> Now it's just a matter of waiting for the results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah hi I realized how long it's been since I updated this and I found I genuinely enjoyed writing it. Like, a lot. So take more, because next update is dinner and necessary Tom and Matt bonding time, then he should get his results back.

“So let me get this straight…”

Tom turned towards Tord with an accusatory glance, a mountain of bags in his arms as Tord attempted to balance the shoes within his own. So perhaps the glare that Tom was fixing him with wasn’t entirely noticed, but the intensity of it had Matt nearly choking on his milkshake as they made their way to Tom’s sportscar.

This wasn’t gonna end well.

“You knew full well you were going shopping, so you decided to bring your one vehicle that doesn’t have any storage space at all. And the one I have told you time and time again is far too dangerous to so much as use for anything other than show?”

Despite the accusation in his tone, Tord’s grin wouldn’t be wiped from his lips as he finally reached the trunk of the car and let the boxes spill into the back. When his hands were free he dusted them off together, hip leaning against the side of the trunk. “Okay, I will admit, I wasn’t thinking this one through. It’s been so long I took her out for a ride, so pardon my excitement!”

When Tom finally managed to place his bags inside afterwards, and stepped aside for Matt to do so as well, he pinched the bridge of his nose just underneath his glasses. God, why did he put up with this idiot? “Do you ever think anything through?”

That knowing smirk that was returned from Tom’s statement said it all. As much as Matt wanted to joke around with them, his head remained downcast, feeling the tension wracking him to his very core. Even if the duo weren’t at all serious in their banter, Matt was still blaringly new to the group. That and Tom…honestly still intimidated him.

When the trunk was finally closed and Tord was putting his helmet over his head once more, Tom jingled his keys with a small sigh. He couldn’t fight the smile on his features however, never being able to stay mad at Tord. “So, are you two coming back immediately, or do you have other plans? I’d love to have you both over for dinner tonight. Kim and Katya will be present, and-”

At the mention of other plans, Tord’s eyes widened in alarm as quickly he started the engine to his motorcycle. “Shit- Tom, god, I owe you for reminding me. Matt’s appointment for his testing is in thirty minutes!” he said, before grabbing the thin man’s wrist and all but dragging him to the bike.

Tom’s face fell a bit at that, but he kept the professional apathy there as he merely shrugged his shoulders in response. “So I shouldn’t wait up for you for dinner?” he stated, rather than questioned. Matt actually felt a bit bad, just bad enough to pause in getting on the bike. “I’d personally, uh, love to meet you there for dinner. If the appointment isn’t too long?”

Matt’s response actually…surprised Tom. At the very least it got Tord to actually mull over what Tom said instead of darting away like he was so prone to doing. The norski pondered it over, running the times through his head, before flashing Tom a thumbs up. “We should be back just in time for dinner, actually. So count us in!”

Tom’s smile was back once more, folding his scarf over his shoulder as Matt situated himself behind Tord once more. “Excellent. I’ll make sure the chefs know to prepare a placesetting for you both.” He took note of how antsy Tord looked, before rolling his eyes. “You may go now.”

Tord didn’t need any more invitation to throw the bike into full throttle, rearing back into a wheelie as he zoomed out of the parking lot with an excited shout. “Hold on tight, Matthew, because we can’t afford to be late!”

Lord fucking help his soul, this was going to be how he died, wasn’t it?

  * \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  -



Somehow, by some miracle or another, Tord and Matt pulled into the doctor’s office just in the nick of time. And in one piece. Sure it took them sprinting up the stairs when the elevator took a moment too long, and their windswept appearance only grew more ragged from the physical exertion, but the duo took it in stride as their backs hit the closed door as joyous laughter rang between them.

They managed to make it right as the doctor herself came out to call their names, clipboard in hand as Matt approached with a nervous smile. “Uh, that would be me.” With a final glance over his shoulder at Tord, he was ushered into the back with only a reassuring smile to give him a bit of confidence.

“So, by your records, you’re about due for a few vaccinations just to keep you up to date with protocols. And it seems we need to put you through a few tests as well, hm?” She asked, tone warm and inviting as she offered him one of the paper robes. “Unfortunately I need to ask for you to strip and put this on. Don’t worry, I won’t peek.”

Despite her attempts to make Matt feel welcomed, he still found himself riddled with nerves as he ditched his new clothes in order to leave himself feeling a rather cold draft blowing up his skirt. He felt self-conscious from how his ribs were so obvious, with the skin of his arms clinging too close to the bone.

When the doctor turned around with his vaccinations, she took one look at him before frowning. “This may sound  a bit strange, but uh, have you suffered from any thoughts of inadequacy or feeling as if you struggle with your weight?”

Oh god. She thought that Matt was anorexic. Shame colored his cheeks as he shook his head no, trying not to focus on the needles passing into his arm from each shot. “Uhm, no Ma’am. I was homeless for the longest time and my friend is, well...helping me back onto my feet. I should be back to my regular weight in no time.”

She hummed at the news, seeming at least a bit more pleased at the information. Finally she was taking a strange handheld contraption and wiping off a spot right at his brachial artery, placing the needle of it into his blood as she inserted a vial into the device it was connected to. Blood flowed freely into the capsule, before she swapped it out with about four other vials before finally being satisfied.

She took a cotton ball and placed it right over the puncture wound, applying plenty of pressure to the wound as she placed a rather plain band aid to his arm. “There we are. We’ll perform a few tests onto the blood, but there’s just one more thing I need from you.”

Matt frowned at the small cup that was offered to him, watching as the doctor motioned him to the bathroom. “I do hope that you need to use the restroom, because I just need a urine sample and you’re free to go.”

Well, that’s just great.

It was humiliating having to pass over his own piss to the doctor after washing his hands and capping the sample when he was done. At the very least he was done as she ushered him out with a warm smile, with the promise that he will hear back from them very soon. With his clothes back on, he opened the door and stepped into the waiting room once more.

Tord’s attention lifted from the magazine that he had been buried into. He folded the paper back up and placed it onto the table, a grin on his features as he pulled his keys straight from his pocket once more. “So, how did it go?”

Matt could really only shrug, given he had no clue what the results of those tests would actually show. He could only pray for good news, to an angel that he hoped was watching over him. “Well, good, I presume? Got a few shots, had to piss in a cup- usual stuff.”

That at least made Tord laugh as they stepped back to the elevator, this time not minding the wait as it went through various floors to them. “Lucky for us it didn’t take too long. We should have plenty of time to make it to Tom’s house for dinner.”

Oh yeah, they were going to have dinner, weren’t they? Matt really hoped that the tension between him and Tom was just in his imagination. It could make dinner very, very awkward if not.

Guess they’d just have to see what happens, huh?


	9. Dinner for Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt meets some of his co-workers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this was a blast to write, honestly. If it weren't for how hectic college and halloween turned out to be, I would have had this done a hell of a lot sooner. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Despite all that had been said and done, Matt would have to give Tord some credit here.

When they weren’t popping wheelies down the freeway, or darting between oncoming traffic, it was actually pretty fun to be on the back of a motorcycle. The wind tickled the sides of his ginger locks against the flat of his face, hair sweeping back even more than before.

He knew it would be in all different directions by the time they reached their host’s house, but none of that mattered at the moment. The back roads were just barren enough for Matt to feel safe keeping his helmet off, tucked firmly between him and Tord as they rode.

Although next time they went out, he’d remind Tord perhaps it isn’t wise to drive around in the wintertime on a motorcycle. By the time they pulled into Tom’s driveway Matt could consider himself an icicle. He felt rather blue as his teeth chattered on, swinging his leg off of the bike and sliding off to start walking up to the door.

“T-This was fun, but let’s just uh. Save her for the warmer weather, yeah?” Matt suggested, before appearing bewildered as Tord held his hands up. At first the gesture was lost to Matt, until he pointed to the helmet on the handlebar. Oh!

Matt gave it a toss, before Tord hung it up and met him halfway up the pristinely shoveled driveway. “You know, you make a fair point, but out of spite I hope you know that I will continue bringing that motorcycle out until I freeze solid.”

The ginger had to stifle down his amusement as he imagined the thought, kicking a small clump of snow aside as they turned to the front porch. “Well, I guess at least there’s quite a lot that would have to freeze over first.” Matt jabbed playfully, elbow cramming into Tord’s ribs as the man rang the doorbell. A loud ringing chime echoed through the mansion, and a moment later Tom was opening the door for them.

The tip of his nose was rosy and pink from exertion, his cheeks lightly flushed as his smile lifted pleasantly at the sight of his friend and…acquaintance. “Ah, there you two are. I’m glad you arrived on time- I had just pulled the turkey from the oven after nearly forgetting about it. I don’t think any of us prefer our birds burnt.”

He chuckled at his own joke, Tord following along with a good natured slap on the back. “You were  never the best chef, Tom.”

At the accusation, it was almost adorable how the shorter man puffed up his chest in pride. Slim fingers rested over his chest in mock exasperation, a scandalized expression taking over his features. “Why, how could you say such a thing, Tord? I’ll have you know I am at least twice as skilled as you.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I hire my chefs to cook for me! At least I acknowledge I have no skills in the kitchen!”

A bout of laughter left the group as they approached the table, already set out with five place settings; only two of which were already occupied. Both women sitting at the table had deep blonde hair, one with her locks pulled into a low ponytail. She looked more sporty than the other, only confirming his suspicions at the blue jersey crop top she wore.

The other looked straight out of a magazine cover, her hair cascading over her shoulders while garbed in a deep red outfit that only accented her curves perfectly. Matt hadn’t even realized he had been staring until Tord’s large hand was slapping him across the back, catching his attention and nearly causing him to choke on his own spit from surprise.

Both of the girls laughed, before Tom seemed to realize that this was in fact the first meeting between Matt and his potential coworkers. He cleared his throat, pulling out the seats for his guests, finally able to sit down when he did so. “Matt, I’d like you to meet my very dear friends and best employees, Kim and Katya.”

He nodded to the girl in red first, a small smile gracing her features as blue eyes sparkled in amusement. That must be Kim. Which meant the other, dressed in blue, must be Katya. They both nodded their greetings, with Kim lifting her glass of wine. “A pleasure to meet another star, Matt. I’m sure we’ll get along well.”

Matt had…no clue how to respond. It was hard enough for him to just talk to Tord, let alone two supermodels who no doubt starred in many of Tom’s films from how familiar they are with each other. Fuck, he really wished he wasn’t so awkward as he cleared his throat. Too much time was passing without a response, before finally Matt was squawking out an undignified spout of, “A-Ah, same goes to you! It’s all a little overwhelming thinking this could be my future if I play my cards right!”

Shit, okay. Maybe that was a bit too forward. Kim seemed a bit off put at first, before at least Katya seemed to want to swoop in and rescue the poor guy in front of them. What better way to break the tension than to point out the obvious?

“You’re not used to talking to pornstars, let alone girls at all, are you?” she jabbed, hand resting lightly on her girlfriends as she spoke. That at least made Kim laugh once more, even with Matt’s cheeks continuing to turn a red bright enough to rival the blonde’s shirt.

“Wow, am I that transparent?” He began, lips curving up into a well natured smile, “I must admit, it’s a lot to take in, and I’m more than a little nervous at the aspect of being a…film star.” He put as much emphasis on the film star part as he could, hands twisting nervously together as a waiter came over to fill his glass with bright pink wine.

Thank god, he needed something to take off the edge of this meeting.

“He’s quite a looker, isn’t he, Kim?” Tord’s voice piped in next to him, his own glass instead filled with a deep brown whiskey. Whiskey that he greedily devoured in a few gulps. “Little shy, so don’t mind his attitude. He ain’t meaning to come across as rude or awkward.”

The woman studied Matt for one more moment, until finally she seemed pleased and let a full smile grace her features. She looked divine, and her laugh was like ringing bells as he playfully pushed at Katya as well. “Alright, alright. I get it, guys. I need to stop being so mean to the fresh meat. But I am picky about who I make films with, and I don’t-“

Tom managed to catch their attention with an outright burst of roaring laughter, having to cover his expression with a napkin held casually to his lips. He nearly spit out the side salads that had been placed before them, in preparation for the full course. “Oh, goodness Kim, absolutely not! He will not be in any films with you girls. He’s Mark’s potential partner, and a good fit to be the submissive with a lot of other male stars.”

The explanation had realization splitting across the girls’ faces, and a relieved sigh left them as they intertwined their fingers together. “Oh thank god. Not that Matt isn’t attractive, he’s just…not dominant.” Kim piped in, before Katya voiced her agreement. “Yes, he’s rather adorable, but absolutely not my type of man!”

Matt….didn’t know whether to feel offended or not. He had two beautiful women in front of him confessing that they didn’t find him enticing- yet oddly enough his pride wasn’t wounded. He knew he wasn’t a strong dominant figure, nor was he anything but tall and thin. So with a big smile he threw a wink at the girls.

“It’s alright, ladies. I much prefer a strong man myself.” He said, before not even realizing he had reached his hand up to rest on Tord’s shoulder. The commie seemed surprised by the action himself, but Kim and Katya looked so much more lax as they voiced their agreement. “Oh I couldn’t agree more. Tord was an absolute doll to work with.” Kim hummed, noting the way that Tord was tugging at the hem of his hoodie as his cheeks dusted red.

“Well, then, might I say the same to you.” He replied in stride, his charming grin flashing those oh so sharp canines to the group. The two were exchanging the most overdone flirtatious looks with each other, complete with lower lip biting and eyebrow wiggles, before Tom was burying his face into his hands and groaning.

“I should have never let you two film together.” He finalized.

At the very least, the ice was broken in time for lighthearted conversation to drift through the group during the main course. They asked about Matt’s past, Matt answered honestly, and soon got to know even more about the people sitting before him.

Turns out Katya used to live in an extremely Christian and homophobic house that she had to run away from, and wound up meeting the model and superstar Kim. Kim herself was not without her demons, admitting to sleeping with producers to keep her job and having to abort an accidental child as a result of those visits.

Tom was a blessing in disguise for all of them at this table, but even he seemed to have struggled in the beginning. Alcoholism gripped him strong throughout college and high school, and he admitted to having a few problems with self-image and anorexia as a result of his previous binge eating and depression.

By the time they were folding their napkins and pushing their plates to the side, everyone had shared a little piece of their personal lives that seemed to concrete them further together

Everyone but Tord.

Yet the conversation had already drifted to much more lighthearted banter as Tom and Katya bounced movie ideas back and forth from each other. They were talking about something regarding insane zombie pirates from hell, but Matt couldn’t be bothered to care.

Tord was smiling, yet it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. He was polite and tasteful in his responses yet it was clear something was weighing on his mind. Matt made a mental note to ask later, for now turning to the final course of his meal. Dessert looked amazing, sure, but the question kept popping up in Matt’s mind.

What secrets had Tord buried in his past?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Matt getting his results back. And I think we all can guess what I'll probably write for that. ;)


	10. The Results

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt receives the results of his tests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) You're welcome for this.

As splendid of company as Kim and Katya proved to be- there was no better feeling than to finally be on his own. With a hefty amount of desert tucked away in Tord’s fridge as leftovers, Matt was glad to be curled up in the guest bedroom that was soon to be his makeshift home. Already his meager bag of stuff sat in the corner by the dresser; personal belongings spread out across the rich- yet impersonalized- bedroom set.

What did help was the multitude of boxes looming over him. Each one contained a different outfit, a different pair of shoes; all of the things that Tord purchased for him at the mall. It made for a rather intimidating pile in the corner, one that Matt vowed to get to before his room became an absolute disaster.

He was never the most organized of guys.

Yet the clean feeling of the room rubbed him all the right ways as he stretched out in silk pajamas along the bed, back popping loudly. At least he had the decency to cringe for the state of his own spine. Perhaps lying on cold hard benches didn’t do too well for his posture.

He vowed to make up all those months of neglect to his body, already initiating his old habit of face masks and hair butter. Admittedly he had to look terrifying to whoever could walk in. His face was smothered with a thick blue paste that he picked up from the lush store, as well as basking his hands in soft lotion after a salt scrub.

That was what mainly was spread out along the table anyways.

Having a full collection of beauty products felt akin to coming home, the pampered man falling back into the lavish sheets of his comforter. He sighed the moment his head hit the memory foam pillow, stretching out and letting the very tips of his toes flex under the satin sheets.

He was just about to open a bookmarked page on his phone when the sound of his own ringtone quickly snapped him out of his stupor. It was the default ring common to most older phones, grating his ears with its high frequency.

He didn’t recognize the number on the screen, yet his heart swelled with hope. Could it finally be word of his parents?

Matt nearly dropped the phone as he stumbled to click answer and throw it to his ear, on the edge of his proverbial seat. “Hello? This is Matthew speaking.”

His face fell when he didn’t initially recognize the voice. “Hello, Matthew. This is Doctor Ragnla, lead of the genetics team assigned to distinguishing sexually transmitted diseases through samples- Pardon how late it is, but I was wondering if you would like to know your results?” he asked, the sound of papers shuffling in the background.

Oh my god.

Matt’s eyes were wide at the realization of what the call was about. He turned to the clock to see that it read 9 P.M, not even a full 12 hours since his samples were delivered. That baffled him as he realized he was still just sitting silent on the other end. “O-Oh, yes. I’d love to hear the results. How did you get them done so-“

“Just by request and an emphasis these tests need to be done as soon as possible by a respected client and dear friend of mine. I assured him I would have them done sometime tonight.” He said, amusement clearly in his tone. “Tord has always been impatient through the time I knew him in college even.”

Well at least that explained it. Matt could only laugh as he settled back into the pillows, despite the trembling in his hands. Figures he would have the tests sent to someone willing to bend the usual patient waiting time. So this was the moment of truth.

Was he clean or not?

“Well, I can see that holds true to the Tord I know. I suppose if you went through all the trouble to get the results early it would be very rude if I didn’t hear them. So go ahead, doctor, I’m ready.” He said, even with the creeping suspicion that he wasn’t ready at all.

This was the moment that made or broke him.

He would either continue living the lavish life with a less than typical job- or he would be deemed too unclean to continue to live here under Tord’s guide. It was a heartbreaking thought to ponder- especially given all it took was one transmission in the time he had to pander his body out to the streets. It was more likely than not, and that was truly the worst part.

“Well…I’m glad to let you know that all of your tests came out negative.” He said after an extended period of silence, the sound of a book being lowered on the other end catching Matt’s attention. “Congratulations, Matthew! You’re completely clean!”

It took a moment for the news to properly sink in, yet when it did? He could feel wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes. He was clean? He was clean! He didn’t have any stds, or sores, or *anything* to be concerned about!

“I’m- wow! Thank you for the good news, doctor! I can actually sleep well tonight!” he said, beaming at the laughter on the other end. He felt like the weight of the world was finally lifting from his shoulders, the blockage rising before his future finally crumbling and leaving the path winding in front of him completely open.

He had a future.

“Ah, it’s no trouble at all, Matt. Just send Tord my regard, given I’m going to finally head home after a long day in the office. Pleasant dreams.” He said, before bidding his farewell as the line clicked silent. Yet Matt still held his phone to his ear, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as waves of realization kept washing upon him.

He was clean, he was free, and he could take Tom up on his offer to star in one of his films.

Before he could stop himself he was throwing his legs over the side of the bed and dashing towards the stairs, not caring that he was in silk pajamas with a face mask on. Nor did he care to even think about Tord’s privacy as he all but threw open the door, blue eyes wide in excitement as he caught Tord nearly jumping out of his skin.

The man was in nothing but a pair of loose joggers, reclining back on his bed while an old war documentary played on the T.V in front of him. He looked baffled to see Matt so unannounced. “Matt?” he asked, before being cut off.

“I’m clean.” He rushed to get out, leaning on the doorframe, winded as if he just ran a marathon. At first Tord didn’t seem to hear right, his eyebrows rising up curiously. “You’re…what?”

Matt’s smile was infectious. “I’m. Clean! I don’t have any STD’s, Tord! I’m clean! I can participate in movies!” he rushed to get out, watching Tord stumble to his feet with silver eyes blown wide in wonder. He stood there on his own two feet for just a moment- before rushing over and swooping Matt into his arms with a crushing strength.

“That’s amazing news, Matt!” he rushed to say, swinging the ginger about in his arms with a surprising strength. He spun him one more time before placing him down with a wide stretch to his smile, arms never loosening their hold regardless. Of course Matt wasn’t complaining about this.

Instead he pulled Tord into a tighter hug, having to fight back the tears that threatened to spill. He was so overwhelmed with everything at the moment, with so many emotions running through him- the only time that cleared was when Tord cradled his chin between his fingers to tilt his head up.

Confused blue met steeled silver, before Matt found his fingers curling along the broad form of Tord’s shoulders as their lips met.

He wasn’t expecting the contact, but didn’t complain either as wandering hands found the cleft of his ass. He sighed into the kiss as Tord’s hands kneaded the flesh there, feeling a jolt of heat traveling through him when the passion behind their kiss only seemed to increase. He let out a soft whimper into the other’s mouth, lips parting open to allow Tord’s tongue inside.

Just the feeling left him lightheaded, not caring that he was smearing his face mask as he threw his arms around Tord’s neck to pull him down closer. Their lips kept meeting in desperate half breaths, mouths crashing together as tongues acquainted themselves generously.

It was only when he felt a jutting hardness pressing against his hips that Matt finally pulled back, hooded eyes staring up unfocused at his partner as a small smile spread across his lips. “I think I should wash off the facemask, unless you want that smeared across your sheets?”

The suggestion was acknowledged, yes, but that’s how Matt wound up half bent over Tord’s sink as the water still failed to run warm. He was gritting his teeth to keep down his whimpers as the Norwegian grinded eagerly against the cleft of his ass, strong hands holding his hips steady as he used his body like a rut toy.

They were still clothed, yes, but just the feeling of that hard cock pressing against him had him nearly breathless in desire. He tested his hand in the water only to nearly jolt when a particularly rough thrust sent him forward against the counter, toes curling in delight as he had to bite at his lower lip to keep quiet.

He couldn’t wait to finally have this man inside of him.

Matt turned over his shoulder with a playful glare, pushing his hips back just as roughly and watching as Tord’s eyes fluttered back in delight. At least two could play at this game. “Are you going to let me wash this off or not?” He teased.

“If I could fuck you right here, right now, I would. Is that a good enough answer?” he inquired, ever the smart ass it seemed. He roamed his hands greedily along the jut of Matt’s waist and hips, squeezing the skin there in delight.

Looks like Matt would have to grin and bear it as he was once again dragged back to snugly fit against the outline of Tord’s cock. At least the water was warm enough to finally start to rub off the mask, using his hand to scoop and splash the water along the skin. Every so often he would nearly get water up his nose as Tord thrusted him into the counter, his gasp getting some of the nasty scrub into his mouth.

He couldn’t get up fast enough, dodging out of Tord’s arms as he went to the side to get a towel and wipe the water droplets from his face. The larger man only stared at him in disappointment, brushing his bangs out of his face with an impatient sigh.

When Matt turned around it was with such a smug smile, eyes moving down the muscular chest, appreciating his abs- before noticing just how hard Tord was already. He couldn’t help but shiver in delight as one by one he began to loosen the buttons to his shirt.

“Eager, much?” He said, walking with a sway in his hips as he tossed the silk shirt aside and began to work on his pants. He didn’t get very far, given Tord was looking for the perfect moment to swoop in. Large arms wound across his skinny chest, caressing his left pec and pinching the sensitive bud there in his hold. It didn’t help that his other hand was undoing the draw string to his pants, continuously and torturously pressing against his cock as he did so.

All Matt could do was cover his mouth to stifle his needy tones, not wanting to be so vocal so easily. But he couldn’t help it! He was loud! He closed his eyes tight as he threw his head to the side, feeling the outline of teeth along his neck that steadily worked downwards to his shoulder. By the time Tord actually bit down, Matt was collapsing his full weight into his arms.

“Tord!” he called out finally, his pants falling to his knees and leaving him feeling far too exposed. Even with his boxers still on, he was feeling hot in so many ways as the commie scooped him up into his arms in one easy sweep. He was panting as he felt himself being tossed onto the bed, scrambling back a bit to make room for the behemoth of a man to crawl on top of him.

He felt pleasantly smooshed as Tord’s weight settled on top of him to kiss him fiercely, his tongue practically out of his mouth as they worked and swirled together. He wanted every single ounce of what Tord had to give him, and only made that more clear as he used one leg to hook around the man’s waist and pull him down further.

Poor Matt nearly shouted at the first real contact to his straining cock, feeling their lengths rub together and send sparks of electricity up his spine. He arched into the touch for a better angle, hands coming up to grip Tord’s hair in his hand and hold on tight.

The first roll of his hips had him overstimulated- but as Tord began to mercilessly grind down onto the front of his crotch? He was pushing him back with a small shout to stop, feeling way too close to orgasm for his own good. Yet Tord jumped off of him like his words burned, eyes wide in panic as his hand came up to cradle Matt’s face.

“Are you okay?” he said, Matt looking confused at the level of panic present in his partner. Yet as he realized that he basically shoved Tord off while pleading with him to stop? He reached his hands up to gently caress the sides of Tord’s face. He placated him with a soft smile as he took his hands back to slide his boxers down, kicking them to the side and exposing his skinny frame.

“Hush, you. I’m fine. I just was getting a little too close to cumming for my own good and didn’t want to kill my libido.” He muttered, before sticking his fingers into his mouth with a wet pop and making a show of sucking on them. At least that got Tord’s mind back on track, with eyes falling half-mast as he watched. With a wet pop and a strand of saliva still connecting them, Matt moved his fingers from his mouth and pushed them between his legs.

Spit made for terrible lube, but at times it was all Matt had as he scissored and prepared himself with a hitch to his eyebrows. It burned something fierce- but it was the quickest way to get prepared without inconveniencing his host. Yet the ginger found his hand being pulled out by Tord, eyes hesitantly casting up to stare at him. “Is…something wrong?”

“Something wrong? You’re using spit! Here-“ he leaned over to pull a bottle of actual lube from his drawer, before tossing it onto Matt’s freckled chest. Matt stumbled and swore as the cold bottle slipped down the side of his body, giving Tord a playful glare as he withdrew it and opened the cap.

“Didn’t know I deserved the good stuff.” He joked, spreading a more than generous amount onto his fingers. It made for a much, much better time when he steadily pressed the two fingers inside of himself. He sighed pleasantly, letting his eyes flutter closed as two became three, and three finally became four until Matt felt comfortable with his size.

The entire time Tord was staring at him as if he were a deity, the stars flickering about Matt’s face as his angelic features morphed in pleasure with each passing stroke of his fingers. He almost wished he was the one to prepare him- but he didn’t have much time to ponder that until the brit was rolling over onto his stomach after clenching his soiled fingers into his fist.

“Tord…please.” He pleaded, his voice so needy and wistful as he so teasingly rocked his hips from side to side. With an invitation like that who could resist? He looked damn good with his face buried in the pillows and ass in the air- even moreso when he tensed up at the feeling of the head of Tord’s cock testing open his entrance.

Matt only could spare one look over his shoulder before his eyes shut tight, mouth parting open into the perfect O as he felt Tord finally pop inside with a shallow thrust. Just the weight of his head inside of him was so thick and heavy, his good hand twisting into the sheets as he accommodated to the stretch. “Oh god, oh god, yes!” he breathed out in a soft cry, before having to bite his finger as he felt more of Tord trying to squeezing inside.

He was so fucking **big** , it was a challenge all the way down to the hilt. Only when he finally felt Tord’s hips meet the cleft of his ass did Matt relax, his body slumping into the sheets when he realized just how tense he had been. His eyes were hooded…at least until he felt Tord’s fist grip his ginger locks in his hold and yank him back up.

He shouted in ecstasy as Tord’s hips drove forward at the same time, eyes rolling back as he could hardly contain the drool that wanted to spill over. Tord entering him was one thing. But to feel his cock actually brushing against every sensitive spot inside of him? He was whimpering out before he could stop himself, using his shaking arms to hold him on all fours.

One hand held his waist steady while the other stayed curled upwards, Tord greedily drinking in the sight as he thrusted into the gorgeous heat spread before him. “I want to see you like this, Matthew.” He muttered, tone husky and drawled with his accent as he fucked. “I want to see you pleading and begging for me, near in tears from how good I can make you feel.”

As if having a second thought, he paused his motions and let the hand pulling Matt’s hair merely card through it. “If you feel overwhelmed, the safeword is communism.” He said, waiting until the breathless man could nod his understanding. Yet when he did? Poor Matt found his head craned up again by the back of his hair, having to brace himself against the headboard to keep up with Tord’s harsh thrusts.

He could hear the bed smacking against the wall with each pounding, the sound rhythmic and repetitive as Tord fucked into him as hard as Matt felt he could. It was like nothing he’s felt before, even with multiple partners loving to get rough with him as well. It was so base and primal in his instincts- Matt’s head was spinning as he felt like prey pinned by a predator.

He let himself be moved as Tord pleased, heat tilting back from the tugs to his hair until he steadily rose up on shaking thighs. He stood on his knees as he felt strong arms wrapping around him from behind to keep him steady. One arm went across his chest, and the other was holding his waist.

It was a strange angle, but apparently just right to brush that sensitive bundle of nerves between his legs. He wasn’t able to suppress his moan as a cacophony of desperate pleas left him, feeling his bright blue eyes overwhelming with tears as he was so fucking _close_ to cumming. Each pass of Tord’s cock kept stimulating his prostate, his thighs shaking with the effort of staying up.

Finally he felt Tord’s breath along the side of his neck, his thrusts never stopping even at this angle. “You look so fucking gorgeous like this, Matt. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, like you were born to take it-“ he let that sink in as the poor man nearly sobbed in need, tongue lolling out as he felt like electricity was passing through him.

Tord’s tone was so smug as he asked, “Do you want to cum?”

Of fucking course he wanted to! Matt tried to portray that by pushing back with his hips, his tears streaming down his face and tasting oh so salty along his tongue as he breathed out a desperate plea for more. He didn’t even know if he was formulating real words at this point- yet from the way that Tord reacted he had to guess he said something right.

He felt teeth bury into his shoulder as Tord’s hips stuttered to a halt inside of him, his hand whipping around to grip Matt’s cock in his own hold. At the first real stimulation to his dick Matt was cumming, his sharp cry piercing through the room as his head fell back in overstimulation. He loved the feeling of Tord’s teeth buried into his neck, his poor cock throbbing dully after spilling himself over Tord’s nice pillows and sheets.

He was about to move away when suddenly Tord was bucking forward one more time, Matt almost falling back as he realized that Tord was cumming inside of him. He held still as he felt spurts of warmth burying themselves deep inside of him, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried to catch his breath.

He fell forward the moment it seemed Tord was done, the norski’s arms going slack as his face buried into the covers. His skin was flushed a bright pink all over, sheened in sweat as Tord’s hands greedily roamed over his hips and ass. He only understood why when he felt Tord’s hands pulling him open to expose his well-used hole.

He could feel cum trickling out of him as he twitched in overstimulation, pulling his lower lip into his mouth as Tord’s finger passed through the steadily trickling cum. He swiped a line that escaped right back up to his hole, pressing it deeper inside and forcing his cum farther back with the motion.

Matt couldn’t care less as Tord finally collapsed next to him, winding his arms around Matt and pulling his partner as close to his broad chest as he could. “That was…whew. You are going to make quite the star, Matt.” He assured, his clean fingers idly moving through Matt’s hair.

Poor guy could only offer him a halfhearted mumble, exhaustion rapidly gripping him as the cooling feeling of sweat and spunk on him was unpleasant but tolerable. He ducked his head into the crook of Tord’s neck. “M’Tired.” He drawled, before feeling covers steadily draping over his form. He felt so comfortable in the embrace of Tord’s arms, the warm sheets staving off the cold as he let his eyes finally slide fully shut.

“We can clean up in the morning- I have a feeling it will be another big day when we tell Tom the news.” Tord muttered halfheartedly, silver eyes flickering down to the comfortable lump of ginger cuddled up to him. He waited for a response…until realizing that his little star had already fallen asleep. His breath was steady and rhythmic against Lassum’s chest, clearly wiped from the frantic day that they had.

Tord moved his hand up to keep Matt’s head as close as he could, holding him like something precious. He may never feel true romantic feelings for anyone- given his Aromantic tendencies- yet with Matt curled up against him like this? It would be the closest feeling to adoration and love he could get.

He let the lull of sleep take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah, we got the results. Now the plot truly begins.


	11. Lazy Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the adventures of last night, Matt finally begins to fall into a familiar morning pattern with Tord. Hopefully one that will persist even past the first few days of arriving.
> 
> Yet today is a big day. He gets to discuss the finer details of his job with Tom.
> 
> Sounds easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look I'm back! I wrote this when I should have been studying for finals oops. But this was long overdue for an update, tbh. So take it! Take Matt being happy for once!

There was something so enchanting about waking up wrapped tight in someone’s arms. While his back hurt something fierce, and his cottonmouth was terrible today, Matt had little complaints as he turned further into Tord’s arms.

As much as he didn’t want to get up from where he lay, Matt had to pee something fierce. So being mindful of his partner he began to carefully squirm himself out from under Tord’s broad arm, praying to the good lords above that Tord was a heavy sleeper.

Being thankful that it seemed he didn’t budge him, Matt padded his way groggily over to the door of the bathroom to carefully push it open and close it behind him. First stop, toilet. Next stop, shoving his head under the faucet to drink. And final stop? Rinsing his face off from where sweat and grime dried overnight.

When he rose back up he found himself staring at the reflection before him. It was as if a completely different man was staring at him than the one that arrived with filthy clothes and little hope for a future. He traced his fingers along his narrow jawline, before leaning back and appreciating the lines of his shoulders as he idly flexed them.

He was gaining weight again, by the looks of it, and he couldn’t stop pinching the extra meat gathering over his limbs. He looked less like a starvation case and moreso a stoner thin body. It was a step in the right direction for sure.

Fluffing back up the areas where his hair became matted and tangled from their bouts in the sheets, Matt deemed himself freshened up enough to comfortably lie back down. While Tord had turned over since his departure to the facilities, Matt still found just enough room to scoot himself back into the spot he once occupied.

It was a shame he wasn’t able to feel those arms around him again, but it was nice enough to feel the tugging of unconsciousness pulling him back to sleep. The digital clock only read 4:45, and they wouldn’t have to be up at any particular time today. Thank god.

Wrapping his arms around his pillow instead, Matt allowed his mind to fade.

  * \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



This time, it was an elbow graciously placed onto his face that woke him up next. The ginger jumped up as sleep still tugged his response time down low, eyes wide open as he turned to find the culprit of the sudden attack. When it was just Tord who had accidentally miscalculated where Matt sat under the covers, the other let out a low sigh.

“Shit, my bad, Matt.” Tord stated quickly, his hand moving down to cup the man’s cheek. He turned his face over a few times to check for damage, before planting a gentle kiss down onto the tip of his nose. “Not a scratch on you. Think you’ll be able to survive?” he asked, tone playfully mocking as Matt shooed his hands away with a small grin.

“I may just be able to live if I have breakfast in front of me within ten minutes.” Matt said, before the comedic timing of his rolling stomach growl certainly wasn’t lost among the duo. Now that his body was getting a taste of a regular meal schedule, it was loudly protesting to make up for lost time.

At least it was taken with humor as Tord reached over to the bedside phone, en route to the chef below. “Good morning. I’d like the usual brought up, with a stack of pancakes added on. Anything else you’d want in specific, Matt?” Tord asked, covering the mouthpiece up with his hand.

The ginger pondered this for a moment. Pancakes sounded damn good right now, but did anything else? Shit. Ribs sounded so goddamn fantastic right now, but Matt just smiled and shook his head. “No. A usual of whatever you have is fine. Eggs, bacon, toast. Whatever it is, I’m okay with it.”

Nodding in understanding, Tord finished up the order before placing the receiver down and instead turning to grab his phone in his hand. He yawned as he scrolled through the device, before quickly shooting a text to Tom.

“Breakfast/lunch at my place?”

A moment later and Tord was already getting a reply. Despite it being the afternoon, it always baffled Tord that Tom couldn’t sleep in for the life of him.

“Sure.”

“Be there in a bit.”

When the confirmation was made, Tord placed the phone back down onto the table before rolling over and quickly smothering his full weight onto the unsuspecting brit. Instantly Matt was squirming back in surprise as a guy much bigger than him seemed intent on using him as a pillow.

He pushed against his chest despite the growing smile on his face. “Tord quit that!” He tried to argue, before finding his face covered by Tord’s arms as he wrapped all around him. Matt’s muffled complaints only lasted a moment before he was pulling the man’s arm straight off of him. “Toooord.” He whined.

What got him to shut up was when Tord’s lips planted against his own. Matt’s eyes widened at the contact, momentarily struck silent as Tord’s mouth worked so softly. His complaints died on his tongue as Tord leaned down further, a small shiver wracking through Matt as the kiss only seemed to increase in intensity.

What parted them was the ringing of the breakfast cart, the duo parting just in time for the doorbell to the room to ring. Matt attempted to fix himself to the best of his ability- but Tord just rose up in order to move to the door and open it. He was just in his boxers, with clear scratches and bitemarks covering him.

The staff remained professionally neutral as they presented the food to see if it was to Tord’s liking. The millionaire clicked his tongue as he studied it…before laughing and slapping the baffled cook on the back. “Ronald, you know that everything you cook is up to my standards. Now get outta here and take your own breakfast break.” He said, before taking the cart and wheeling it into the room.

The fancy dining set in the corner of the room was where Matt and Tord set up for breakfast, coffee and tea being graciously accepted by Matt. It was simple light conversation over the food. Nothing too heavy, nothing too light and pointless; mainly just questions about his upcoming job.

The breakfast was delicious, something that one would expect coming from such a fortune that Tord had amassed. The eggs were deliciously fluffy and soft, the sausage and grits melted in his mouth as he ate, and the pancakes were stuffed full of fruits and warm molasses that slid down his throat easily with fresh pressed applejuice.

Matt could feeling the point where his stomach refused to take in any more, leaning back with a soft and satisfied sigh. He was in nothing more than the robe he had worn over his pajamas previously, the edge parted open and exposing the rows of marks to Tord’s eyes.

He would become distracted at the sight of one, before turning back to his toast and taking a greedy bite from it.

Matt smiled slightly as he noted such. “Do I need to put on a shirt?” he asked, clearly teasing as the man had to swallow down his nerves. Leave it to Matt to be infuriatingly attractive. “No. You’re fine. But Tom will be on his way very shortly and I don’t think he’d appreciate the sight.” Tord noted, already glancing down to his own lack of clothing.

A shower was in order, and sounded frankly heavenly after their messy bout in the sheets and finished breakfast. The trays were covered to keep warm for when Tom arrived.

Matt went first, testing the water and reaching a temperature he liked. What he didn’t expect was for a warm body to slide in behind him after he stepped inside himself.

The younger man nearly jumped out of his skin when warm arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close as they shared the spray with intimate closeness. Tord’s hands felt right on his sides, keeping him near as his pointed nose pressed against the inner shell of his ear. “Don’t want you to waste the hot water is all.” He noted, clearly amused at the shiver that went through Matt’s form.

To say it was hard to concentrate was an understatement. He lathered and rinsed his hair as Tord’s hands felt along him, rubbing a bar of thick lavender soap across him. One of the very soaps Tord bought for him at the mall. It felt so smooth against his skin, Matt happily accommodating for wherever Tord wished to clean.

It was horrendously sweet, and Matt simply couldn’t help but bury close to Tord as the bar traveled along his back. As he did so he figured it would just be polite to return the favor. So he gathered some shampoo from the most used bottle he saw, rubbed it between his fingers, before working it through Tord’s hair.

Hearing the pleased sigh from the other was more than worth the trouble of not slipping on the tiles. He scrubbed nice and deep into the expanse of his scalp, nails teasing the skin as the bar of soap traveled further down his spine. Matt pulled back just enough for his eyes to languidly trail up to Tord’s, realizing after extended eye contact that they weren’t going to be getting clean.

Lips met his own, before Matt allowed himself to be backed against the wall with wet and sloppy kisses working him over into a puddle of pure need. He gasped softly, head turning to the side as his eyes closed tight when those intoxicating lips decided to travel downwards.

Oh yes, they were going to be quite distracted, if the way that Tord’s mouth wrapping around him hinted towards.

-

\- - -

-

In the end all that it took was a quick handjob for Tord after his blowjob to finally wrap up their shower, rinsing the proof of their activities down the drain.

Matt hasn’t felt this hormonal since he was in highschool, for gods sake!

He supposed it was just the charm and allure of a millionaire wanting to bed you that could really bring out the beast. Or it was the kindhearted spirit that Tord seemed to possess- taking him off of the streets and placing him into a warm bed with a steady job awaiting him.

It was most definitely the ladder, but Matt didn’t want to start getting sentimentally emotional quite yet. Instead he fluffed up his ginger locks with lazy flicks of the towel, not caring about his nude state as he allowed the lingering steam of the shower to keep him warm as he dried.

When he felt as clean as he would get, Tord was already out and about, bustling to gather his clothes for the day and toss them on. Simple red turtleneck, with causal black joggers to boot. Looks like it was a lazy day- Matt absolutely wasn’t complaining at the thought.

He was just about to head out the door to return to his chambers for clothes when the butler had knocked on the door, clearly startling poor Matt as it had been clear he was just about to leave. “My apologizes, sir, but Thomas is here.” He address to namely Tord, bowing to him as the Norwegian turned his head at the entry.

“Oh? I hope you’ve let him in. Head back down and tell him I’ll be right down.” he ordered, stepping over to Matt when the man bounded down the stairs to keep Tom entertained. He rested a hand on Matt’s shoulder, planting a soft kiss to his mouth.   
  
“Just get dressed and head down whenever you’re ready. I’ll inform him you’re in the shower.” He said, Matt’s head still clearly in the clouds from the lingering kiss. He planted two fingers against his own lower lip, before pulling it between his teeth in a smile. “Yeah. Sounds splendid to me.  

And with that, Tord was heading downstairs in order to meet up with his friend and colleague, leaving Matt alone in the grand bedroom.

He let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding as he stepped out of Tord’s room, making his way down the first set of stairs to reach his guest-bedroom-turned-bedroom. He took one look in the mirror at all of the marks Tord had left behind, before sighing as he decided to match the man in turtleneck fashion.

A purple one fit snugly over his skinny frame, covering all of the marks of his neck while also keeping him plenty warm. As much as he wanted to fuss in the mirror and preen himself to perfection, he didn’t want to waste time. A brush through his hair and a quick rub of his beauty blender would have to do as quickly he jogged down the rest of the stairs.

Time to discuss his future job.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that you guys are liking this so far! I'm not sure how long I'm going to make it, but if you want to read more feel free to give it a kudos and a comment. I'm checking to see how well received this is, given I've never made MATT the star in a multi chapter fic.


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